


Unexpected Beginnings

by LauraRoslinForever



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Baby Fic, F/M, Fluff, Minor Character Death, domestic kabby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-06-09 04:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 117,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraRoslinForever/pseuds/LauraRoslinForever
Summary: A year after her husband passed away, Abigail Griffin is living as normal of a life as she can – college professor at the University of Washington, mother to eighteen-year-old Clarke, she’s content as anyone can be. Until one night, on the one-year anniversary of her husband’s death, she seeks out the comfort of the one person closest to him. Marcus Kane has lived a relatively easy life, aside from an ex-wife who took his daughter and then five years later dropped her and his stepson on his doorstep without looking back. Since then, he’s never really been interested in exploring anything new. But when his best friend’s widow comes to him for comfort, he can’t help but be there for her. Little do they know that the one night they share will bring them closer and tie them together in ways they ever thought they could be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This is my first Kabby fanfiction, I'm SUPER nervous about this one, but also excited. And I know some of you aren't really into the theme but just trust me. Also, I played with this after my beta had a look so all mistakes are mine.

_Pregnant._

Her eyes widened. No.

She blinked down at the stick in her hand, but the word didn’t change.

 _No, no, no, no, no._ She couldn’t be!

It was absurd. She only had sex once in over a year! Once!

All right, so it may have been more than once that night but _still_. Abigail Griffin closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, fighting back the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. Whether the sick feeling was from her emotions or a symptom from her condition she didn’t know. _That_ wasn’t what had led her down the aisle of the drug store the previous day. That she could thank the Outlet Mall for.

Monday, she found herself with some time before class and stopped by the Outlet Mall on her way to work. Vanilla almond milk latte in hand, she paused in front of the Coach store window. The new summer sale had hit and the expensive white duffle she’d had her eye on that was normally five hundred dollars was now two-fifty. With a smirk, she made her way inside, never one to pass on a good deal and she had been craving the retail therapy as of late so why not?

Later that day after class, she sat in her office before going home and transferred her things from her old purse to her new and that’s when the thought first struck her. She had emptied all the small things from the very bottom. Lip gloss, Chapstick, a nail file, hand sanitizer, and… a tampon. She took the last one in her hand and stared down it, mentally counting back the days, her eyes growing larger and larger until she realized that she skipped one period entirely and should have been due for her next two days ago.

To say, as she reached for the First Response, that it had been more out of curiosity than actually believing it could be real would be an understatement. She was getting older; she felt it more and more. Just having turned forty-one, she was ever aware of time slipping by, and even more now that she was alone…

_Not so alone…_

Pregnant.

“Mom,” Clarke’s voice called through the bathroom door. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, honey,” she replied quickly hating herself for how weak her voice sounded.

God, _Clarke_. What was she going to tell her?

 _The truth_ , her mind whispered to her. You had a moment of weakness with her father’s best friend and now you are going to pay for that weakness every day for the next eighteen years.

She covered her mouth with her hand. God, she was going to have to start all over again. She was going to have one kid in college and one in diapers. Tears flooded her eyes and she choked back a sob.

“Mom?”

Sniffing, Abby stuffed the stick back in the box and opened the bottom drawer of her bathroom counter, hiding the test in the back behind the first aid kit, boxes of Band-Aids, gauze, and antiseptics. Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she placed her hands on her grey granite bathroom counter and looking at herself in the mirror, let out a soft sigh. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face blotchy. She wouldn’t be able to hide this from her daughter if she stepped out of the bathroom now.

“I’m fine, honey, just running late,” she called out. Biting her bottom lip, she thought of a way to buy her some time. “Would you mind starting my coffee for me? I promised to meet with Jackson and take a look at his thesis before class.”

“Sure.” Her daughter’s voice sounded skeptical, but thankfully, she didn’t question her. “The vanilla or hazelnut roast?”

“The hazelnut will be fine.”

She stood beside the door until she heard Clarke’s footsteps on her hardwood floor leave her room and start down the stairs. Opening the door, she blew out a breath and made her way over to the bedside table near her still unmade bed and grabbed her phone. She may have been a doctor, but she couldn’t very well examine herself. In the back of her mind, she knew she was overreacting. But there were risks associated with having children this late in life, and until she knew for sure that she was healthy enough to carry this pregnancy she wasn’t going to make any kind of decisions.

Did she need to let the father know? Absolutely.

But not until she knew for sure that everything would be fine.

Unlocking her phone, she brought up the name of her friend and former colleague while thanking every God there was that the best friend she made in medical school just happened to be an OB/GYN and pressed the call button. Seconds that felt like hours passed as she waited for her to pick up, and when she finally did, Abby let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“Hey, I’m glad it’s you, I am having the worst morning-”

“Diana, are you working today?”

“Yes, why? Do you want to get lunch? If you do I’ll rearrange my schedule, you won’t believe what-”

“Actually, Diana,” Abby interrupted, not because she didn’t care about Diana’s day but because she didn’t have time to have this conversation with Clarke still in the house. The concern in her voice wasn’t lost between the door separating them, and if Abby knew her daughter, she’d be back upstairs to check on her if she didn’t go down soon. “I need an appointment… for me… with _you_.”

“With me?” Abby could practically see the way her blonde friend’s face probably scrunched up in confusion.

“I…” Abby trailed off as she crossed her room and closed her bedroom door as quietly as she could. “Do you remember I told you about who I went to go see a while ago…and,” she swallowed and closed her eyes trying but failing to block out the images of that night, “what happened while I was there?”

“Who you went to go see?”

Abby let out a long sigh. “The Queen’s Heid, Diana.”

“Oh, okay…” Her friend laughed. “Now, I remember, but what has that got to do with…” There was a pause and Abby waited while it all clicked. “Oh my God, no.” Diana must not have been alone because she lowered her voice and hissed, “Please tell me you’re not?”

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Abby brought a hand up and rubbed her temple. “I wish I could, but the test I just took says otherwise.”

“Son of a bitch, I’ll kill that Marcus Kane,” Diana said with a soft growl. She listened as her friend told someone in the background to pull up her schedule, then asked, “When can you get here?”

Abby blew out a breath. She should go to class. It was her one summer class she agreed to teach because she had nothing else to do. Clarke decided to get a summer job before going to college this fall and there was only so much gardening and reading she could do before she got restless. “I’m going to call and have Jackson start the lecture and hand out the notes. I can be there in an hour after Clarke leaves for work.”

“All right, get here and I’ll make it happen.”

“Okay. Thank you, Diana.” Pressing end, she gave herself one more moment to pull herself together before she had to go downstairs and act like nothing in her life had drastically changed.

* * *

 

If he didn’t know any better, Marcus Kane would have thought his staff were trying to be the death of him. Four requests off during the last week of the World Cup. He tossed the yellow post-it’s with names and dates scribbled on them onto his desk and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. _Nice try,_ he thought, but there wasn’t a chance in hell it was happening. They’d be packed all week, and if his cooks and best bartender thought they’d be doing anything but _working_ , they had another thing coming.

Hell, even he was working, and he was the owner.

Not that he didn’t trust his manager, Roan, but the younger man nearly got him fined last week for being overcapacity and he’d be damned if he let that happen again. It’d been years since he had to pull strings with the Seattle’s fire chief, and thank God Jaha owed him a favor because to say the captain had been reluctant to cut Marcus a break would be putting it mildly.

The animosity between him and the older man had been on a knife’s edge since Saint Patrick’s Day when he accused Marcus of setting off a display of fireworks. It hadn’t been him, but it was outside of his pub and he had known those responsible. Captain Pike reminded Marcus how the possession and use of fireworks in Seattle were banned and considered a gross misdemeanor. Jaha had saved his arse on that one, too as there was no proof Marcus was the one responsible.

The last thing he needed was that old walloper breathing down his neck another week.

With a sigh, he dropped the tentative schedule he’d been working on down on his desk and reached for his phone. His mouth slipped down into a frown a moment before he tossed the phone on the desk along with the papers.

No missed calls. No messages.

 _Just call her you bawbag,_ his mind pleaded with him for what must have been the hundredth time in the last few weeks.

But he had already done that. A week after she’d come to him, after their night together, when he couldn’t take it anymore he called to ask how she was and dared to hope the night they shared wasn’t a one-off thing because God help him he didn’t want that to be the end.

His hopes, however, were dashed when she told him she needed more time. She wasn’t saying no, but she wanted time to think about things. He, of course, agreed to wait until she was ready. He’d wait as long as it took.

He just wished it wasn’t taking quite so long…

Just then the door to his office burst open, and he looked up to find his daughter dressed in her football uniform (and yes, he would call it football until his dying day because soccer was just an insult), her green eyes narrowed in his direction.

“Why are you just sitting there?” she asked with all the patience of a teenager. “My practice is in twenty minutes.”

A smile tugged at his lips, and getting to his feet, he reached up and took the extra set of keys he had made for her from the shelf above him. Tossing them across the room, she caught them easily enough. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, so it was easy to see the surprise in her expression.

Her eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Seriously. I thought you’d like to drive yourself this time.”

Eyes widening, she rushed toward him, and he had just enough time to prepare himself from being knocked back when her arms wrapped around his shoulders. “You’re the best dad _ever_!”

Marcus chuckled as she released him. Her face was alight and she clutched the keys to her chest. While he was confident in her driving, he still held out a finger. “To practice and back. No taking your friends home, no going to the mall, no going to see _him_.”

He may as well have given his warning to the wall because his words did nothing to dampen her spirit. “ _He_ has a name, Dad, but I promise, only the practice and back.”

“I’m trusting you, Octavia, to be smart...” he let his words trail off there. He didn’t need to finish his thought. She would remember Bellamy’s reckless start to his driving years that included four speeding tickets and had his privileges revoked not by the state but by him for over a year just as well as he.

Her shoulders fell and she gave him a look that clearly said to him _I’m not that stupid._ “And risk a summer at home with no driving privileges at all? No thanks.”

 _That’s my girl._  

Shaking his head, he waved a hand toward the door. “You better get going.”

She gave him another glowing smile and turned, practically danced out the door, nearly colliding with his day bartender, Echo, in the hall.

Echo raised a brow at him. “You finally gave her the keys, huh?”

Marcus stepped out into the hall, standing and watching with the young woman as his daughter left. “She’s ready.”

“She may be,” Echo said, nudging him with an elbow, “but are you?”

His chest tightened thinking how quickly time passed. Turning toward her, he gave her a sad smile, and muttered, “They have to grow up sometime, I suppose.”


	2. Chapter 2

Her drive from her suburban home in Hawthorne Hills to where Diana worked may have only been a little under ten miles, but mornings on I-5 leading into downtown were always a disaster and what should have been a fifteen-minute commute took her over forty-five. With David Bowie turned up on her stereo, she raised her favorite stainless-steel coffee mug to her lips but hesitated.

Oh, stop. One cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt anything, she told herself, then rolled her eyes and took a drink.

Glancing down at her phone while taking the off-ramp into downtown Seattle, she was relieved to see she would just make it before her appointment at ten. Depending on how things went, she might even make it to class. Even though her teacher’s assistant, Jackson, had been more than willing to cover her lecture for her. In fact, his words were, _take all the time you need and don’t worry if you don’t make it._ She trusted her TA could give her students the information they needed and go over her notes with them, but at the same time, she worried that the attention spans of some wouldn’t exactly be high if she wasn’t there to make sure they were paying attention.

She tapped her thumb to the tempo on the steering wheel while coming to a stop for the red light. Up ahead, she caught sight of the bay and let out a soft sigh.

The light turned green, and she turned right off of Marion Street and into the parking garage across the street from Seattle OB/GYN while trying hard not to think about how close she was to his pub and how it would only take a few minutes to drive the handful of blocks that separated them and wondering if he'd be there.

Abby let out a soft groan. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? She knew why she couldn’t exactly now, but in the weeks that had passed since they were together, this wasn’t the first time she ideally pondered what he was doing or if he was still left thinking about that night and what happened between them.

The truth was she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Not just their night together, but also their friendship throughout the years. He and Jake had always been close, but she and Marcus had their own sort of relationship as she wasn’t his biggest fan when they first met. He’d somehow discovered how much he liked how getting under her skin. Loved to give her never-ending amounts of hell about her profession, her taste in music, and movies, and much to his delight, she gave it right back. But the more time passed and as she got to know him more, Abby discovered he had a softer side to him. Perhaps he just needed some time after his divorce, but there was a sweetness to Marcus Kane underneath his hardened shell.

With that being said, behind those warm brown eyes and charming smile to this day he could still be an infuriating jackass.

In the time it took her to send Diana a text telling her that she was there and walk from the parking garage into the building, was enough time to have her friend there waiting for her.

Abby met her eyes from where the blonde doctor stood behind the counter. Her arms were crossed, her eyes giving her the look that made Abby feel like she had been caught by her mother walking the walk of shame. Shaking her head, Diana moved out of sight and met her at the door where the nurses led patients to the back.

“Come on,” Diana said with a sigh while giving her a once over. “Let’s go see if you really do have something to worry about.”

Ten vials of blood, one urine test, and a tedious questionnaire later (the father’s information filled out to the best of her knowledge which wasn't much at all) and Abby was lying on her back looking up at a picture of ten sleeping babies all wrapped in different colored blankets.

“Do you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” came Diana’s voice from between her legs. Her brow furrowed. Were they really going to have this conversation while her best friend was examining her cervix? “I mean, the man’s a dish, but he always struck me as the more responsible type.” Diana raised her head and smirked. “Or were you both too drunk to care?”

Abby groaned and covered her face with her hand. Oh, how she wished she could blame it on alcohol, but sadly, neither one of them had a drop. She’d gone to see him that night because Clarke was away with her friends on a weekend trip before graduation to Vancouver. Her daughter wasn’t going to go at first, but when Raven had told Abby about the plans they had to see a concert, she insisted she would be fine at home by herself. And so, hesitantly, Clarke had agreed.

But the quiet of her home that night suddenly became too much. Jake’s absence too loud. The decision was made before she could think too much about it. She put on a pair of jeans and pulled on one of the last of Jake’s old tee shirts she had left. Grabbing her keys, she drove in the direction of downtown because other than Clarke, the only other person closest to Jake she had left was Marcus.

“That’s kind of the thing,” Abby began, “I was trying not to think. Not really.”

Diana let out a soft scoff. “Clearly. Jesus, the man lives over a bar, you’d think he could have gone downstairs and put a quarter in one of those damn condom machines.” She stood and removed her gloves while raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow at her. “I know he has them in there.”

A pang of something foreign and rather unpleasant settled in her middle. It wasn’t a jealous feeling exactly, but it wasn’t something that was making her feel very comfortable with where this conversation was headed. “Do I even want to know _how_ you know this?”

“Get that look out of your eyes, it was not from anything with Marcus Kane of all people.” Diana rolled her eyes at her and Abby felt heat rush to her cheeks, partly in shame but mostly because she had been so easy to read. She reached over and pulled the sheet down and the gown Abby wore up to expose her still flat abdomen and began to feel around. “No, one of his cooks… hmm, what was his name? Morgan, maybe? Monroe? Murphy?” She shrugged. “It was a while ago now I can’t remember.”

When Diana finished, she placed her hands down on the table and gave her a soft smile. She didn’t need to say anything. Though the blood tests weren’t back yet, the look in Diana’s eyes told Abby all she needed to know.   

Tears filled her eyes then, and she covered her face with her hands. “How could this happen?”

“Well, when a man and a woman are attracted to one another…”

A half chuckle, half sob left her. She was trying to make her laugh and it worked. “You know what I mean.” She dropped her hands back down and, exam over, pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t think about using anything because Jake and I never did. We thought if it was meant to happen it would, and then things got busy with work and with Clarke; we were content. I thought it was nature's way of saying Clarke would be it.”

Diana turned and grabbed what looked like a due-date chart from the counter. “Do you remember what day it was when you both…”

Abby swallowed. “The twenty-fifth of May.”

Diana looked up. “Oh.”

Two more tears slid down her cheeks but she didn’t bother wiping them away. “Horrible isn’t it. Getting knocked up by my dead husband's best friend on the anniversary of his death. Widow of the year.”

Her friend turned away again, only this time when she faced Abby she had a handful of tissues in her hand. “Don’t do that to yourself. Jake was a great guy. You and I both know he wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone and unhappy. He probably would have even preferred it be with Marcus.”

Abby let out a breathy laugh and took the Kleenex gratefully. “Only because he would have thought it'd be hilarious if I lived above a bar.”

There was a knock on the door then, and a nurse stepped in and handed a paper to Diana. Once the door was closed behind the nurse, and after Diana’s eyes scanned the page she handed it over for her to look at.

“Abby, all your tests came back like I knew they would. Completely normal.” Her friend’s voice had softened, and Abby took a deep breath before letting her own eyes fall on the page.

Blood type: AB, Blood Count: Normal, the usual STDs… All negative (And thank _God_. She would have killed him.), Hepatitis: Negative, hCG and PAPP-P (proteins in the blood that assess Down Syndrome): Normal, and last but not least, the only glowing positive right next to Pregnant.

“Now it’s a little too early for some of the other tests,” Diana went on, “but if you still have any fears, we can think about them in a couple weeks. Unless you want to wait and talk about them with Marcus because of the risks involved.”

“I don’t…” she paused. Her chest suddenly feeling tight with an emotion she couldn’t or didn’t want to name. “I haven’t thought about that.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

She looked up, surprised her friend would ask her such a thing. “Of course, I am. Just as soon as I know everything's all right.”

Diana gave her a look. The one she imagined she gave Clarke all those times when she was a child and Abby had to exercise extreme patience. “Abby, you and I both know you may be higher risk, but there’s no reason to believe anything will go wrong or _is_ wrong. You're eight weeks, if you want we can do a quick ultrasound and take a peek… or would you rather wait for that too?”

Would she rather wait for Marcus is what she meant but didn't say… again . Abby was sensing a bit of judgment on her friend’s part.

“No, let’s do it. Even if everything looks good on paper, I’d feel better if I could see for myself.”

Diana nodded and sat down in the chair next to the small machine. “Well then lay back and get cozy again, Momma. Let’s take a look at the thing Marcus put in you.”

The thing? Her eyes narrowed. “Lovely.”

Abby laid back against the table once again. Looking up back at the babies above her. Her eyes shifted back and forth between each one. Her eyes drawn to each different color blanket, wondering if she’d have another girl or if this time she’d be surprised with a boy. Her eyes slipped closed and she mentally scolded herself for letting herself go there so soon.

It was a relief when Diana’s voice pulled her away from any further daydreaming. “You know, maybe this was supposed to be.”

She let out a soft snort of a laugh. “Really, Diana?”

“I don’t know,” the blonde began, “You have years of unprotected sex with Jake, and it never happens… but then one night with Marcus at the age when you’re down to a five percent chance of conceiving naturally and… tada!” She grinned, looking proud of herself. “Seems like the universe is telling you something.”

Abby adjusted her head on the bed so she could see Diana beside her properly. “Have you been seeing that astrologer again?”

Her friend’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “He’s a cosmobiologist.”

Her brow furrowed. “And what the hell is that exactly?”

Diana chuckled. “I have no idea. All I know is he gives me multiple orgasms and doesn't mind I go home directly after.” With a wink, she motioned with a tilt of her head towards the screen. “There you have it, and with a mighty strong little heartbeat, I must say. A hundred and sixty-five beats per minute.” Just as she turned her head, a sound Abby hadn’t heard in a long, long time filled the room. “So far everything looks like a normal, _healthy_ pregnancy.”

She raised a trembling hand and covered her mouth, had to blink and blink some more to keep the tears filling her eyes from clouding her vision.

When she first found out that she was pregnant with Clarke she remembered being so happy and seeing her only heightened that joy. But with his baby, shock and fear were the only emotions she seemed to have but now it wasn't just some test result, it was real.

She was _pregnant_.

Great, now she was crying for a whole new reason.

Diana gave her a minute to take it all in while she measured and took notes. After everything was done, and Abby had dressed, her friend tore a piece of paper from a notepad and held it out to her. “I want you to go fill this prescription and go home and rest.”

She took the slip of paper and smiled down at the prescription for prenatal pills. But before she could leave there was something in her friends gaze, like she was waiting for Abby to come to a decision. “You think I should I tell him before.”

“I think the sooner, the better because I know you and  I know keeping it from him will start to nag at that soft heart of yours.” Diana’s lips pulled up into a sideways smirk, the way they always did when she teased her. “But that, my dear, is up to you.”

With a reluctant smile, she thanked her friend once again. And after making a lunch date with her for the following day and another appointment in four weeks, she took her time walking slowly back out to her car. It wasn’t too late, she could go by the college and check in with Jackson if she really wanted to, but she had a lot to think about. And a day at home alone to do just that sounded better than worrying about a class that had been just fine without her for a day.

* * *

Wednesday evening Marcus stood in the kitchen of his four-bedroom apartment that resided above his pub. A cup of coffee in one hand, he held the latest inventory count with the other while frowning at the numbers. Either his bartenders were getting heavy on the pour, or they were missing a few bottles. No doubt the latter and he suspected Wick and Miller to be the main culprits. They thought strong drinks made them more tips. Well, strong drinks were going to make them first in line at the unemployment office if they didn’t get it under control and soon.

He heard a growl across the counter and lifted his eyes from the paper to his business partner. She was shaking her head, looking over the same reports as he, only for their second location in Oregon that she took responsibility for, muttering to herself.

Once a month they met either here or in Portland to go over profits, staff and tentative plans for the year. That included Saint Patrick's Day. Even though his pubs were Scottish Pubs, and the only day closely resembling the Irish holiday was St. Andrews Day, America went bonkers for it, so they participated. Then the next biggest thing was the Highland Games where they sent a food truck and set up a beer garden during the three-day festival. And that was coming up in a few short weeks. Just enough time to get settled from the fuss with World Cup to dive back in again. At least those games were only a weeks worth of headaches.

He was about to ask Indra about her thoughts on who she wanted to send this year when his stepson, Bellamy, walked into the kitchen. The young man took an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter beside him, then walking over to the kitchen island, reached out and mussed up his sister’s hair who happened to be in a rather eventful group chat.

Annoyed, Octavia looked up and narrowed her eyes, swatting his hand away. “The hell, Bell? Stop being an ass.”

Bellamy smirked. “Dad, Octavia is swearing.”

Marcus watched Octavia roll her eyes and ignore him. Having her brother staying with them for the summer after his first year of college apparently meant slipping back into their childhood antics. “And?” he asked, the boy, “I’d leave her alone.”

“This is crap. You never let me swear.” Bellamy took a seat on a barstool beside his sister and bit into his apple.

“Your words were a lot more colorful, and she doesn’t use them in every other sentence,” he pointed out.

“She just did.”

“And you deserved it.”

“I see how it is. Let the princess do what she wants.”

“Children, please,” Indra growled. With her phone held to her ear, she sent an intimidating glare in Bellamy’s direction then rose to her feet.

Marcus raised a brow as she walked out of the room and into the living room, but it did little to hide her conversation from them. Her voice rose with each biting word that had even his teenage daughter looking up from her phone and craning her neck to see what was going on.

No one spoke until she returned and when she did it was Bellamy and his usual sarcastic cheer who asked, “What’s wrong, Indra? Problems in the city of roses?”

The look she gave his stepson could only be described as withering. “You have no idea.” With a softer gaze, she turned to Marcus and told him, “I’m going to have to catch up next time. I need to get back home. Apparently, my child thinks she can go and drop out of college.”

Oh, well fuck. Marcus didn’t need to know how she felt about that, it was clear in her tone. He wasn't sure what to say to that, besides a watered-down version of his first reaction. “Yikes.”

“Yikes is right,” she said while she gathered her own reports and close her laptop. “Her father also doesn’t seem to give a damn. If they know what’s good for them, they will use the next three hours it’ll take me to drive home and hide somewhere I can’t find them.”

Marcus lifted his mug in the air. “Godspeed.”

That gained a small smile from his friend, and she wished them all a good day before leaving.

Once the door was shut behind her, Octavia muttered, “She’s so scary sometimes.”

Marcus frowned at his daughter. Indra could be a bit abrasive, but he didn’t know about scary.

“You know she’s the reason Portland has more turnover than you, right?” Bellamy told him like this wasn’t news.

“How do you know about our turnover?”

“You forget I worked there last summer?” He shrugged. Took another bite of his apple. “Staff talks. Word gets around.”

Marcus frowned into his cup, but any questions he may have had about the rumor mill were gone when his phone chimed with a soft _ding_ from somewhere in the living room.

Setting down his coffee, he made his way over to the coffee table where he placed it earlier that morning. He expected a text from Roan on the updated count downstairs, maybe a message from his mom now that Octavia had taught her how to text, but when he looked down and saw it was neither of them but from _her_ warmth flooded through his chest, lifting his mood and spirit that'd been dampened considerably these last several weeks.

_Are you free tomorrow afternoon to talk?_

_To talk…_ that sounded almost ominous. Be that as it may, he replied to her quickly, _Of course. Anytime you’d like._ The word _desperate_ tumbled through his mind, but he dismissed it as quickly as it came, thankful that she was even reaching out to him.

That had to be a good sign?

He only had to wait a few seconds and then three little dots appeared as she typed back.

_I get out of class at one. I’ll stop by around one-thirty?_

There would be a game on, and the place would be packed with it also being the end of lunch but he didn’t care. He’d make it work.

_Sounds good. Park in the back, I’ll have a spot saved for you._

_All right. See you then._

He stared down at her last message wondering if he should say more. But what would he say? He supposed he could ask how she was, how her classes were going, if she spent most of her day thinking about him like he thought about her. He might want to keep that last one to himself unless he wished her to know he was a pinning fool.

Years of knowing her, being indifferent to her, befriending her, and now having these new feelings for her had given him a lot to consider. Mostly his friendship with Jake and what he might have said about what was happening between him and Abby. Those reactions ranged from knocking Marcus on his arse, to questioning his motives, to being happy someone he knew and trusted was taking care of her.

Or, at least, wanted to take care of her.

Just then Octavia came into the room pulling him from his thoughts. “Dad, can I go downstairs and have the guys make me something to eat?”

He looked back at her. “Sure, in fact, let's all go.” Eyes back on his phone he typed a quick, _Can’t wait_ before he could over think it, and stuffing his phone in his back pocket, turned and added, “I have a few things to get done before the tomorrow anyway.”

Bellamy joined them and smiled. “I could eat.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “You could always eat.”

With a heavy sigh, Marcus ushered them both to head downstairs. Grabbing his keys by on the entryway table, he locked the door behind them thinking how interesting this summer was going to be now that Bellamy was staying with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you all for the reviews and feedback, I truly appreciate them all! And also, as I'm just starting out in the 100/Kabby fandom I don't have a beta familiar with the series, so if you or you know someone who would be interested in proof reading and giving me your/their thoughts I'm @KateJaneway25 on twitter, just shoot me a DM or tweet. I hope you all continue to enjoy and let me know what you think. <3 Next chapter is coming very soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The lecture room that seated a hundred was sparsely filled with her thirty-eight students and today of all days their eyes were on her. She found it ironic how the one class she was teaching this summer just happened to be embryology. That she was lecturing on procreation, implantation, and the development of an embryo. She paused looking up at the PowerPoint feeling like the universe was laughing at her. Her face burned as she blinked up at the 3-D image of the embryonic period weeks one through eight. They’d been through this all before, but their foundations test was next week so of course, she had to go back through it. All the while, imagining what had gone on and was currently taking place in her own uterus.

“You okay, Dr. Griffin?”

Abby turned her head to meet the concerned hazel gaze of her favorite pre-med student, Harper McIntyre and felt a tug of affection for the sweet girl. She’d known Harper since her freshman year. She'd taken her under her wing, advising her and helping her make sure she kept her classes on track. Be there for her when she was sure that she had failed. But Harper never did fail, she soared, through everything. And for Abby, this semester was bittersweet. Harper would be leaving her and transferring to med school this fall. Truthfully, Harper didn’t need to be taking this class. She should have been out enjoying her summer before school got really intense. But she came to Abby at the end of spring term and told her she just wanted one more class with her before she left.

“I’m fine,” she told Harper with a small smile, then with her attention on the room, apologized, “Sorry, guys.”

Licking her lips, she took a deep breath and continued while internally cursing Marcus Kane for what must have been the tenth time since she began.

Somehow, she managed to stumble through the rest of her lecture, even with some of her dignity intact.

An hour later, while driving downtown she unbuttoned a couple buttons on her shirt, the day much warmer than it usually was. When she dressed for work that morning, she kept in mind she would be seeing Marcus later that afternoon. Black slacks and her thinnest, stretchiest black button up top over an equally soft, cotton cami because she woke up and her boobs were just so goddamn _sore_. Just putting on a bra made her want to jump out of her skin. She suddenly had the image of Marcus that night. Of how enthusiastic he had been about them. How much she enjoyed his attention to that area of her body, and how if he tried something like that now she would probably slap him.

 _At least I’m not nauseous_ , she thought ruefully while finishing off the strawberry bubble tea Jackson had bought for her along with lunch for them both before she left for the day. This baby could throw everything else at her but keep the nausea away.

Her heart gave an extra knock in her chest as it did whenever she thought about the child instead of the pregnancy. Which she started to do more and more in the two days it’d been since seeing Diana. She wouldn’t let herself picture anything too far in the future, though. With everything so uncertain she didn’t want to get her hopes up (which were growing every day whether she liked it or not), or about her relationship with Marcus until they were both on the same page.

Thinking of Marcus once again, her heartbeat picked up as she neared Post Alley Drive. His pub just up ahead situated between Pike Place Market and the Washington Convention Center. It’d rained earlier that morning, but the sun decided to come out giving the city a nice reprieve to enjoy a glimpse of the bright blue sky.

“What the hell,” she said to herself. Apparently, the sun brought with it a crowd into the area because there were cars parked everywhere. She noticed a small gathering outside of the front of the pub and made a face. Was there some kind of festival she was unaware of?

Pulling around the back, she was afraid that spot Marcus had told her he was going to save for her was going to be filled.  The back parking lot was as full as the street had been. She was utterly baffled by what would possess so many people at a bar on a Thursday afternoon. Didn’t people work anymore?

To her astonishment, there was a vacant spot for her right by the entrance to the back door. A sign marked reserved and a piece of paper with her name scrawled in black sharpie taped to it. After she had turned off the ignition, she sat there for a minute before getting out telling herself to breathe, that it was Marcus. Marcus, who had pulled her into his arms without her having to mutter a word as to why she was there. Marcus, who had shivered underneath her touch. And Marcus, whoes smile when she woke up the following morning made her feel like she was the sun and the moon.

Leaving his bed, leaving his arms that day had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. But there were so many thoughts, so much guilt hanging over her at not what they had done but how and why she had gone there. All these made her feel as though what they shared between them was more complicated than it really was. The guilt kept her away all those weeks, but what they shared was bringing her back.

Removing her keys from the ignition, she got out and locked the car with a tap to her key. But the chalkboard outside the door had her steps slowing to a stop before she went in. Her lips pulled up despite her nervousness. At the top of the board, there was an arrow pointing towards the bar and beside it the words, _Drinks, Food, Football._ Then another arrow pointing away from the bar that read _Real Life,_ and at the bottom the words, _You choose._

Abby shook her head. Men.

Tugging her purse higher on her shoulder, she opened the door but was unprepared for the crowd inside. It took her eyes a moment to adjust from the light outside, and when they finally did they widened. There had to be more than sixty, maybe seventy people in the room. Mostly men, some women but all their attention focused solely on the big projector screen displayed up on an empty stage playing what looked like some kind of game?

Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. Was that soccer?

With a deep breath, she attempted to make her way through the crowd where there appeared only to be standing room as she got closer to the bar itself. Tables and chairs normally in the middle of the room were pushed to the sides. The patrons lucky enough to occupy those seats looked like they had been there for a while. Multiple empty glasses and plates and used napkins littered the surfaces. She hadn’t been in a place with so much bedlam since the computers went down on the registration day at the university.

Just as she began to wonder how on earth she was going to find Marcus in this mess, she felt a hand on her lower back and his familiar voice near her ear say her name.

“There you are.” She looked up into his warm eyes, but she barely heard his words as the room erupted in cheers drowning them out. He leaned down so she could hear him, and she almost groaned aloud the smell of his aftershave. The memories of that night coming back to her, _doing_ things to her. “Come this way.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, _what way,_ but it wasn’t necessary. Marcus took her hand in his and led them away from the crowd and the noise. They passed the bar, and down a narrow hall that led into another large room that was considered the restaurant side (also filled with people eating and watching the same game on a much smaller screen but enormous still, nonetheless). Past that beyond the bathrooms, the ones she always seemed to find hilarious. The ladies was nothing new but the men’s was marked twice with _Gents_ and _Scotsmen_. The latter including of a stick figure of a man and then one with a man in a kilt.

At the end of the hall, there was a set of stairs which they took down a short way into a large open room with two rooms. The first room’s door was labeled, _Employees Only_ and the other, _Management_ . He opened the door to the second which revealed a large office, and it was then she realized it was _his_ office and it was the first time she’d ever been in there.

His desk was situated in the corner of the room. She found it amusing that while his apartment upstairs seemed tidy enough, his desk was what she’d call organized chaos. There were little sticky notes littered around the sides of two computer monitors, stuck on surfaces like the cabinets above and the calendar on the wall. Even a few pinned on a quark board near the desk with lists of employee phone numbers, emergency services, and vendors. The walls hung framed pictures, a shelf with a few trophies, and a jersey displayed in a glass case that she assumed to be soccer jersey if she was sensing a theme.

“Sorry about all the noise. The game was supposed to be over, but it went into overtime.” He let go of her hand to shut the door behind them and when he turned back, smiled at her. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a blue and white jersey and suddenly soccer didn’t seem like such a tedious sport after all. Her stomach flipped, erupted with a butterfly sensation that had nothing to do with the baby in her belly. _His_ baby in her belly. Abby felt heat rise in her cheeks. God, she felt like a teenager.

When she didn’t reply right away, he tilted his head and it was at that moment she noticed the significant amount of stubble dusting his face. Without thinking, she took a step toward him and reached out tracing her thumb over his unshaven cheek. She bit her lip to stay her smile, but it was no use in the end. “Are you growing a beard?”

His smile mirrored hers, if not a little shy. Gradually the air between them grew thick as neither spoke. Their eyes held when he reached up and took her hand from his cheek where he placed a kiss into her palm bringing with it all those feelings she had for him surging to the surface.

There was never a question about whether she was attracted to Marcus because she had been. Even when Jake was alive she acknowledged he was a handsome man. She may have been married, she may have been deeply in love with her husband, but she wasn’t a saint. She and Marcus just had that natural chemistry, but she was married, at the time so was he, and he was Jake’s friend. That chemistry instead they used against one another. And when their differences of opinion would clash, as they often did, it was inevitably Jake who would laugh and ask if he needed to throw a bucket of cold water on them.

Jake wasn’t a jealous man. He knew she was faithful, that she would never do anything like that with anyone, let alone Marcus. Still, when she started to recognize the attraction for what it was, she found excuses to spend less and less time with them as a group. Excusing she should spend more time with Clarke or at the hospital until months passed between and then years. It’d been a year since she saw Marcus Kane when she walked into the bar that night and three years before that when he through Jake a memorial that she felt obligated to attend.

At the memorial, she felt nothing but numb. Her husband had just passed away, and when Marcus gathered her into his arms and she closed her eyes against the fresh wash of tears there was nothing to feel but sadness and pain. But a whole year later, when he pulled her against him, yes, the pain was still there, only less so. Dull instead of acute. And she simply stopped fighting the connection they shared and simply gave herself to it.

And now here she was, nearly seven weeks from the day she gave into their attraction, standing in front of him about to turn his world upside down just as hers had days ago and she couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Hey, there.” His voice was soft, and tender and all for her.

“Hi,” she replied, hers much breathier than she intended.

Tugging her hand, he pulled her into a hug that she slipped easily into. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in, allowing herself to indulge in this moment with him before, well… before she told him.

“How have you been?” he asked drawing away after a long moment, looking down at her with those hopeful dark eyes of his. And yes, she knew they were hopeful, his words in bed and his phone call a week after she left his apartment made his intentions all too clear.

He wanted her, but would he still?

God, she hated this.

“I’ve been… good.” Taking a step back she let out a soft chuckle she didn’t feel and pointed to the door. “You guys are busy, I see.”

His eyes lifted to the roof as if he could see the chaos above and laughed. “Yeah, it’s always crazy during the World Cup.” He looked at her like that was supposed to mean something, and after a few seconds, he shook his head, looking amused at her ignorance. “It’s like the football playoffs, only European football and much more entertaining.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. She hated sports. No matter how much Jake and even later Clark tried to get her into it she found her mind wandering often wishing she could be doing something equally mundane like painting her toenails. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He chuckled once again. “Would you like something to drink, I can go grab something for us real quick.”

A drink? What the hell. She might as well, as she had no idea how long it was going to take her to work up the courage for the conversation they needed to have. Hell, she barely knew where to start. “Um, some seltzer water and lime would be great.”

The bubble tea and teriyaki chicken weren’t settling so well.

“Coming up.”

He left her with a nod, and she turned and dropped her purse on the worn leather couch along the back wall. Knowing it would probably be a minute before he returned she took a moment to look over the photos on the walls. Most were business related. A picture in the Seattle Times of a younger Marcus Kane standing in front of the bar with a woman she remembered meeting long ago. His business partner, if she wasn’t mistaken. Another of him standing beside a young soccer team proudly wearing the pub’s jerseys that was mounted on a plaque for participating and donating to Kicks for Cancer.

Then amongst them, there were a few personal photos. He and his daughter on a boat holding a fish, of him and Bellamy at his graduation, and one of an older woman, his mom she was sure, but it was taken somewhere else. A wide smile pulled her lips up and up. They had to be in Scotland. It was the only thing that explained the rolling green hills, and the real reason for her grin. The kilt he wore.

She needed to stop watching so much _Outlander_ if she was going to be near Marcus as none of the thoughts she was having were the least bit pure.

She looked over when she heard his footsteps as he came back into the room. His eyes darting from her smile to the picture, and... was Marcus Kane blushing?

He held out the drink for her and she took it, murmuring her thanks then asking, “When did you take this?”

“Uh…” A small laugh left him, and he reached up and rubbed his neck as he explained, “A few months back right before we uh…” he trailed off as their eyes met. She found it hard not to smile at the redness that began to creep up his neck, but he quickly recovered, explaining, “I took Octavia to see my mum, and while we were there she insisted on the wardrobe, for one day at least.”

Her head tilted to the side. “How long were you there?”

“Three weeks.”

Huh, that explained a few things she’d been wondering about. “That must be why your accent seems a bit more pronounced than I remember it.”

“Going home will do that to you,” he replied taking a sip of his own drink. “Or it did for me, anyway. It’s easy to fall back into it when I’m there.”

“How old is Octavia now?” she asked, gazing back at the picture thinking how grown up she was compared to the last time she saw her after Marcus got her back from her mother. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine at the time.

“Sixteen going on twenty.”

Abby smiled knowingly. There had been many times with Clarke when she felt the same. “I know the age well.”

“Clarke’s in college now, right?” He moved to the other side of the room and setting his drink which looked very similar to hers down on his desk before leaning back against it.

She turned away from the pictures to face him. Talking with him like this, like they were just now catching up after all these years made her realize just how little they had talked about their lives when they were together. This was going to be more difficult than she thought it would be. “She is… or she will be. She starts at the University of Washington this year.”

“Oh, she and Bellamy will both be going then.” Pushing himself away from the desk, he pulled the chair from it and patted the seat with a smile.

Touched, she made her way over to it and sat ever aware how much closer they were now. “What’s he studying?”

“General Studies just now. He thinks he wants to be a cop.”

She hummed in the middle of a drink, then swallowing, asked, “How do you feel about that?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, leaning back against the desk once again. “I’d like it a lot more if he studied something that wasn’t going to get him shot at but if it’s what he wants to do…”

“We can only protect them for so long,” she said softly, knowingly.

He blew out a huff of air. “Ain’t that the truth? Sometimes I wish I could turn time back, fight Aurora harder for the kids. Get them back a lot sooner than I did.”

Abby cleared her throat. Taking a deep breath and letting it out along with her animosity for the ex-wife in question. “You know my opinion on that woman.”

He chuckled, and it was a rich, deep thing that had her scowl lifting into a smile once again. “Yes, I do recall your voicing your distaste for her. Something I appreciated immensely when I was going through the divorce.” Their eyes held for long moments, and now, she thought. Now was the time to tell him or at least direct their conversation toward it. With a quick breath, she opened her mouth to begin, but he surprised her by blurting out, “Abby, will you go out to dinner with me?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I know it’s… that things are different now, but I wondered if you might want to see if there is something more... I know you said you needed some more time but…”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him because he was stumbling, but mostly because there was nothing she wanted more.

He looked up. “Really?”

She sat her half-empty glass on his desk next to his and rose to her feet. Taking a step toward him, she disregarded all the warnings going off in her head, and the little voice that begged her to think about what she was doing. She listened to her head once, now it was time to listen to her heart. “Really.”

He stood, and asked, “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I am.” She wasn’t really. She had a test to prepare for, but she’d figure it out later or during the weekend.

He took a step toward her and then another until he was standing inches from of her. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

She fought hard not to look horrified. _Seven?_ The last two nights she’d been in bed by six thirty. No matter how many times she said she’d make it through an episode of _The Handmaid's Tale_ , she’d been sound asleep before it ended. Exhaustion was just another wonderful symptom of her pregnancy.

And was it fair to go to dinner with him before telling him? To keep it from him while he was standing there in front of her wanting nothing more than to just _date_ her, making no attempt to push her for more than she was ready for? But then, why couldn’t she, though? It wasn't like she had no intention of telling him, she did. But didn’t they deserve this? This one dinner. This one date before she told him she was pregnant and moved them so far ahead from wherever they were that she didn’t even know if there would be more he’d want to give.

No. She’d tell him after.

“Seven is fine.”

Then before she knew it, Marcus had lifted her hand up to his lips and placed the gentlest kiss on her knuckles. Her breath hitched slightly at the whisper of contact, and at his thumb as it continued to caress the back of her hand as he lowered it slowly. In that moment, she felt such an overwhelming rush of deep _affection_ for him that tears gathered in her eyes before she could stop them.

Oh, how she missed _this_.

He must have noticed her distress because his brow drew together, and with the hand that had held her let go and came up cupping her cheek. “Abby?”

She took a deep breath as his thumb swiped the stray tear away that began to slip down her cheek. Damn, this pregnancy and these hormones that were going to be the death of her. She had little control over her emotions in general, and even less so when it came to the father of her child it seemed.

“If you don’t want-” he began.

“No.” Her voice was firm, and a hell of a lot stronger than she felt and it startled them both. With a softer tone, she admitted, “It’s not that. I’ve just… I’ve missed you.”

It wasn’t a lie. She had missed him, and for longer than she ever cared to admit.

A smile drew the edges of his lips up then his brow dropped to hers as he returned, “I missed you, too.”

* * *

 _Kiss her you fool_ , came the voice in his head, and damn himself he wished that he could, but there was something holding him back. A vulnerability in her eyes he hadn’t expected and hesitant to name. Even if it was clear his feelings weren’t one-sided, there wasn't any reason to rush this. If she needed time she could take all that she needed. He wasn't going anywhere.

For how long they stood there he couldn’t say, only that it wasn’t long enough.

Soon, she was drawing away from him, looking up at him with those wet, warm eyes of hers, telling him, “I should get going.”

He let out a soft sigh, expecting it but not ready for her to go when he just got her back. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay? Have some lunch?”

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, and he never cursed a sporting event more than he had in that very moment. “It’s okay, you’re busy… Besides my TA brought me something before class.”

“Oh.” He watched her turn and retrieve her purse from the couch. Her long, honey-colored hair fell over her shoulders and down her back and he had to close his hands to keep from wanting to reach up and run his fingers through it.

When she was back beside him, she slipped her hand into his and gave it a soft squeeze. “A rain check for lunch, though?”

“A lunch and dinner? Absolutely.” With a smile, he threaded their fingers together and with a tilt of his head said, “Let me walk you out.”

They made their way upstairs and were relieved to find the pub had quieted down since the match had ended. And it was only with a tinge of disappointment he noted that his team had lost. He didn’t care a great deal about it just now. He’d sulk about it later that night when he watched the replay.

Making their way outside, they had just parted hands when his daughter rounded the corner. Just now coming back from her final practice before her game on Sunday, donned in her jersey looking a bit windswept and energized.

Her eyes brightened upon seeing him. “Hey, Dad,” she started and then as if just noticing Abby beside him tilted her head. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed together. It was a look she got frequently when trying to remember a movie or an actor. “I’ve seen you before…”

“Octavia, this is Abby,” he introduced. “She was married to my friend Jake.”

Octavia’s face fell, no doubt remembering how upset he’d been after he found out about his friend’s passing. Octavia had gone downstairs after he got the call, coming back up with a drink Roan had made for him and a big bear hug before leaving him alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Abby smiled warmly at her. “Thank you.”

He glanced at his daughter as she took a breath and then in a more cheerful tone, add, “You guys catching up?”

He and Abby shared a smile. “Something like that,” he said. “How was practice?”

“Great.” Octavia smirked. “Hawthorne Hills isn’t gonna know what hit them Sunday.”

Just then Abby asked, “You're playing against Hawthorne Hills?”

His daughter straightened, pulled her shoulders back like she was ready to take them on single-handedly at a moment's notice. He wanted to chuckle but held it back as she lifted her chin and replied, “Yeah, why?”

“Oh, nothing.” Abby shook her head. “My daughter just went to school there.”

“Fancy,” Octavia began, not at all impressed and neither was he with her sudden attitude. “Well, we’re gonna whoop their privileged-”

“Octavia,” he cut in giving her a look she wouldn’t be able to mistake. _Drop it,_ it said. “Maybe you should go grab some lunch,” he paused and reached over, taking a blade of grass out of her hair, suggested, “or shower, perhaps?”

“Geeze, sure, Dad.” She rolled her eyes at him, but she wasn’t raised without manners, and he was pleased to see her demeanor soften and turn her attention to Abby. “Nice to see you. Come back and see this guy more. He needs a friend.”

“You too, and I plan on it.”

He bit his lip at Abby’s comment, but before Octavia could get too far, he asked, “Hey, my keys?” He held out his hand before she passed, and she dropped them into it like she’d been expecting him to ask. He murmured his thanks and a quick, _I love you,_ which she returned without looking back. With Octavia inside, he turned back to Abby. “Sorry about that. Hawthorne Hills and Shoreline are the biggest rivals in the district, and she’s a tad competitive.”

Abby chuckled not missing his emphasis on the word _tad_ knowing it was a damn lie. His daughter was incredibly competitive, and he may be partially to blame for it.

“I can see that. Nothing bad about some healthy competition to motivate her.”

“She’s a great player. It makes me sad thinking there will be only this year and maybe next and then that’ll be the end of it. If she decides to run off to UCLA like she keeps saying she wants to do, that is. But hopefully, no matter where she goes she continues to play.” He knew he sounded a bit wistful, but it was something that he didn’t mind sharing with Abby. She, having a grown daughter of her own would understand herself. “I’ll travel to watch her even if it is in California.” Crossing his arms across his chest, he let out a heavy sigh. “What?”

He didn't realize while he'd been going on about Octavia she’d been regarding him. Her eyes gentle, along with her soft smile. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

“Nothing, I was just thinking… fatherhood looks good on you.” She did something then he was not expecting. Taking the couple steps that separated them her hand fell on his arm and she leaned up onto the tips of her toes and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek before whispering, “See you tomorrow.”

“Until then,” he murmured back, looking down into her eyes a moment until she started to walk away. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he watched her go, but just before she opened the door a thought struck him.

“Abby, wait,” he called. She looked over, arching a brow at him. “Was there something you wanted to talk about? While I’m happy for whatever brought you here, your text seemed like there was something specific you wanted to say.”

Her gaze drew down, away from him and he thought he saw a flicker of not necessarily fear in her eyes, but regret maybe? It was there one second and in the next, it was gone. Her warm smile that replaced it quelled any fears he might have had. “There was something, but... nothing that we can’t talk about tomorrow.”

He frowned. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied with another smile and touch of exasperation in her tone that it made him chuckle and let it go so she could leave.

He watched her drive away, then went back inside. The rest of the day, however, he couldn’t seem to stop wondering what it could have been that brought her to him, but he had no idea. All he knew was that she’d missed him, and Jesus he’d missed her too.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been anything too serious.


	4. Chapter 4

When Abby got home later that afternoon the first thing she did was take a shower. She told herself she would feel better once she did. But while the hot water was able to relax her somewhat, but it did nothing to wash away the guilt that she felt. She should have sucked it up and told him, but no. She was selfish. For every one of his smiles, every look of understanding, every infuriating touch had her good sense fleeing her. She knew telling him would be hard, but she should have known that seeing him for the first time since the last would be just as hard. If she hadn't been so naive to think that she could detach her feelings, she might have been able to _talk_ to him.

Well, she hadn’t been. Instead, she’d been a coward. Too afraid if she told him then he would change his mind about their date, about her, about them.

Slipping into her robe, she made her way downstairs. Any other Friday evening she’d make herself a cup of coffee and get her grading done or maybe make dinner for her and Clarke. But Clarke had text her she was going out after work with friends, and she wasn’t feeling very hungry. Definitely not in the mood to do any grading.

Eyeing her laptop sitting open on the kitchen table, she walked over to it and turned it on. Sitting down, she thrummed her fingers on the table while she waited for it to boot up.

What she needed was to plan out the next seven months. Everything felt so uncertain, and she hated that feeling more than anything else. Even if her plans were tentative, for now, it would be something to get her by. Something she would feel in control of even though once Marcus was in the picture, and he would be, things might change.

Once she was logged on, she brought up her calendar. Clicking through summer, through fall, and came to a stop only when the month changed over to February. Clicking on the thirteenth, she typed Due Date.

Her eyes drifted to the days surrounding the date. Spring semester would just have started a few weeks before. She was going to have to decide soon if she wanted to go on maternity leave (which, come to find out, she had six to eight weeks postpartum recovery and four months of parental leave) or if she chose, work a modified schedule.

The gentle tapping of her fingers on the keys was the only sound in the house as she thought of a to-do list. Opening her sticky notes, she typed a reminder to have a chat with human resources next week. Her lips pulled up into a smirk, thinking to herself she should show Marcus how to use sticky notes on his own computer. She couldn't begin imagining of all the paper it would him save.

Thoughts of Marcus just then had her thinking about them and a baby… and God, what were they going to do? Sitting back in the chair, she ran her hands through her hair and stared at the calendar. There was so much time between now and February. Would they continue to date once she told him? Or would the news make him feel obligated to her then?

Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to scream at the unfairness of it all. Maybe that was why she’d been so quick to accept his dinner invitation? Because if they were going to work, she needed to know it was her that he wanted. And at the same time, discover her answer while being very aware how he’d once had his children used against him by a woman who had claimed to have loved him.

Biting her lip, she thought about Aurora and how horrible she’d felt when Jake told her Aurora had left Marcus. Not because she was fond of the woman, but because she took Bellamy and Octavia and moved across the country. She had seen Marcus a few times during the time Aurora had been gone and while he'd been finalizing his divorce. The look in his eyes was something she hadn't been able to forget. Aurora had broken him when she left and took his daughter from him. She recalled the relief she had felt a few years later when the kids had been taken back by their uncle. And with them, a scrap of paper that had signed over her rights to Marcus.

One thing was for sure, she never wanted him to think he would have to go through something like that again. Especially not with her. No matter what happened between them, somehow she knew they’d find their way through this together.

Staring out the window, she thought of a couple more notes that struck her - to speak with the dean about her fall schedule that had already been planned and cancel her gym membership. While the facility was nice, she’d been there twice in the last four months and now that she was pregnant she doubted she’d feel like stepping a foot inside. She ate reasonably well and walked around a campus all day. She got the exercise she needed.

With her laptop off, she closed it with a faint click. Making her way back into the kitchen, she took out a pint of ice cream from the freezer and a spoon from the cabinet drawer beside it.

It’d been a hell of a week. She was hormonal and pregnant, and if she wanted to go lie upstairs in bed, eat ice cream for dinner and watch TV she was going to, damnit. Because she was an adult.

* * *

A song he hadn’t heard in a long time played over the sound system. He hummed along to the tune while unconsciously tapping his pencil to the beat on the sheet of paper in front of him, completely unaware of the eyes that had been on him for a while now.

“What’s with you?”

Marcus looked up into the face of his manager who stood behind the bar drying a glass with an appraising gaze. “Pardon?”

“You.” He put the whiskey glass on the counter behind him with the others and tossed the towel down on the bar. “You’ve been humming and driving us nuts all day.” His eyes narrowed, suspicious. “What's with you?”

“Have I?” he asked, brow furrowing. He knew he'd been humming, but he didn’t think he had been all day.

He took a drink of his Coke as one of his cooks, Jasper, took a seat in the bar stool beside him. “Who is she?”

Blinking at the young man, he asked, “Who’s who?”

The younger man struck him on the back with enough force he nearly spilled his drink. “The woman you’ve got the hots for.”

Roan raised a brow but revealed nothing and collected another glass to dry. But Wick, who had been playing cards with Jasper at an adjacent table, joined in. Stepping up beside Jasper, he shuffled the cards around in his hand and with a nonchalant tone asked, “There’s a woman?”

Marcus let out a sigh. Though, to anyone paying attention they weren’t hiding much when they walked out of the bar hand in hand earlier, were they? And if tomorrow night went well, which he was certain it would, he supposed they were all bound to find out sooner or later. He didn't intend for Abby to be a secret, however, if they wanted to know things, well, they would have to work for them.

He looked down at the paper in front of him and scribbled his signature at the bottom. “ _She_ is none of your business.”

“So there is a she,” Jasper began, nodding, his smile widening into a grin. “Niiiiice, boss, yas!”

Marcus shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“You got a picture? What’s she look like?” asked Wick, who leaned in closer.

He wished he did. There were likely a few but they’d be old photographs in a box upstairs and not anything new on his phone. He pressed his lips together and thought of her, then told them, “I don’t have a picture, but... imagine Michelle Pfeiffer in the nineties.”

Jasper blinked at him, his face a blank slate. Turning to Wick, he quietly muttered, “Who’s Michelle Pfeiffer?”

“What?” Wick scoffed. “Dude, come on, _Catwoman_.”

Not even the pop culture reference did anything to place a spark of recognition into the younger man's eyes.

Marcus looked up and met Roan’s gaze. His expression a dulled version of his own unbelieving expression. He shook his head and began to make out a check for the liquor order. These kids were getting younger and younger.

“Never mind. Forget it,” he told Jasper.

But in the time it took for Marcus's disbelief to wear off, Jasper had apparently taken to the internet. “Oh, slay, boss,” Jasper said holding up his phone triumphantly.

Marcus held out his hand. “Let me see that.” They googled her all right, but the picture they had up was all wrong. Her hair was too short and too blonde. He swiped at the screen until he found one that he was satisfied with then handed the phone back. “Like this one, only Abby’s a lot prettier.”

“Wow, the man’s got it bad if he thinks there’s someone prettier than that,” Jasper told Wick who nodded and hummed in agreement.

“Isn’t there something else you two should be doing?” Roan asked them, placing his hands on top of the bar regarding them both with the look of a manager whose employees were, for all intents and purposes, fucking around on the clock.

Jasper shook his head. “Not really. Preps done. It’s stocked.”

“Then clock out and go home. I’m tired of looking at your face.”

“Aww,” Jasper leaned over the bar, reaching toward Roan with a hand out like he was going to stroke his face. “I love you too, Roan.”

Roan backed away and tossed the towel at him. Jasper laughed but got the message. Both he and Wick collected their things and headed out the door.

“Pike came by again,” Roan said, reaching for Marcus' empty Coke and filling it without him having to ask.

Unsurprised, Marcus replied,  “You don’t say?”

“That man’s got a real hard-on for you.”

A half scoff half laugh escaped him. “Jesus, I hope not,” he said, before taking another sip then setting his glass back down. “At some point Jaha will knock him down a peg. Until then he’ll be pissing on the corners of town trying to mark his territory.”

His manager hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing in return. Neither one of them being fans of the captain as the bastard’s antics made both their lives hell. He missed the days before Jaha had promoted.

“I’ll be going out tomorrow evening, you’ll be all right if I leave for a few hours?” she asked, already knowing the answer but wanted to make him aware it’d be on him.

“We’ll be fine. I’ve got Wick for an extra eye. Oh, hey, speaking of, before you go.” He reached under the bar and then placed a resumé down in front of him. “This kid came in looking for a job earlier today. His name’s Lincoln, twenty-one, got a good employment background. He’s got a few extra tattoos, but I thought he’d make a good replacement for Wick since you want him on bar.”

A few extra tattoos? Marcus bit his tongue to keep from mentioning Roan’s own preferred method of branding. When he initially saw it all those years ago when first he hired Roan as a bartender, he’d been fascinated. He’d heard of scarification but had never actually _seen_ it. To him, if a man had a set of balls big enough to take that, he wasn’t about to deny him a job pouring shots because of it.

His eyes quickly scanned the application. Not finding anything he would take as a red flag, he pushed it back across the smooth, mahogany surface. “If you like him, do it. Start him as soon as you can. I’d like the extra eyes on the doors.”

“You’ve got it. And don’t worry about tomorrow, I’ve got it covered.”

* * *

 

She stabbed her spoon into her pint of vanilla ice cream and without looking, placed it on her bedside table. Her eyes too fixated on her television screen across the room to spare a glance. Tears fell down her cheeks as she watched Meryl Streep’s character sing _Slipping Through My Fingers_ to her daughter and wondering why she thought this movie was a good idea. She sang along quietly into her empty room, but then nearly jumped out of bed when she heard her daughter’s voice.

“Mamma Mia again, Mom, really?”

Startled, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks away and sat up. She didn't need to hide her tears this time. Her crying through this scene wouldn’t be anything new to Clarke. The mother-daughter scenes did that to her. Which was why, thankfully, any other reasons that may be associated with her tears Clarke would be none the wiser.

“Clarke, I didn’t hear you come home.” Her daughter chuckled and shook her head while she removed her boots before joining her in bed. “And because I like it, thank you,” she replied answering Clarke’s question.

“I like it too,” Clarke began, moving over until she was sitting right beside her. “But you don’t usually watch movies like this unless you're stressed out or feeling down. So, which is it?”

Sighing softly, she tried as best she could to make her voice sound normal. “Neither, honey.” Clarke’s head dropped onto her shoulder. A wash of love filled her chest, and she let her own head fall softly to the side, resting against hers.

She wasn’t too convincing apparently, because her daughter’s head rose, and she met her gaze with that piercing stare she got from her father. “Mom, you’re not fooling me. I can tell something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Clarke, I promise,” Abby told her, but her blue eyes continued to bore into hers, making her sigh. It was clear she wasn’t getting out of this conversation. She needed to have a heart-to-heart with Clarke about the baby, however, that would wait until after she had that conversation with Marcus... but Marcus they could talk about. “All right, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you about.”

“Okay.”

They each sat up a bit straighter and once Abby was facing her asked, “Do you remember your dad’s friend, Marcus?”

Clarke’s brow furrowed while a small smile played at the corners of her lips. “Why wouldn’t I remember him? Dad used to take me over to his bar sometimes after school for lunch. He always used to make me a Cherry Coke with maraschino cherries and lime. Like it was a real drink. Why?”

Abby let out a half sigh, half exasperated laugh. Of course, Jake had taken their daughter to a bar for lunch and of course, Marcus had made Clarke a “real” drink. She pushed that information away for a later parenting talk with the father of her child.

“Marcus and I…” she trailed off, there were only so many things about her night with Marcus she was willing to reveal. And her semi sort of one-night stand was not one of them. “We went out together a few weeks ago, and I want to know how you would feel if we went out again.”

Clarke took a deep breath through her nose. Her eyes fell away thinking and a moment later, she surprised her and said, “I’d be fine with it. I mean, come on, Mom, Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. He’d have wanted you to be happy.” Abby’s throat tightened rendering her unable to speak. She nodded while fighting back tears, but it was a useless attempt, however, because Clarke pulled her into a tight hug. Abby clutched her to her as the tears she so bravely fought fell until in a perplexed voice, Clarke said, “But, I always thought you hated him.”

A watery laugh left Abby, and she pulled away. Wiping her cheeks, she smiled. “I never _hated_ him. I was often annoyed by him.” She looked down and pulled at an invisible string on her robe as she went on.

But he’s changed a lot over the years. He’s funny and sweet… He’s-” She paused, realizing Clarke was watching her with a faint smile, and embarrassed, finished, “he’s, Marcus.”

“Well if he’s all those things, I think you should go out with him.”

She let out a breath, relieved she had her daughter’s blessing but also because she was done with talking about herself. She was dying to find out how her daughter’s new job had been going. “What about you? I feel so bad, tell me about your new job.”

Clarke made a face. “It’s different. I don’t think I’m a fan of retail.”

Abby chuckled. In her brief but memorable work history during college, she had her own taste of retail. Working at the cosmetics counter at Macy’s where she’d nearly been fired for trying on one too many pairs of lipstick. “I don’t think many people who work in it are.”

“My coworkers are mostly cool, but there’s this one girl, Lexa…” Clarke sighed. “I think she thinks it’s her job to tell me everything I’m doing wrong, which according to her is everything.”

The frustration in Clarke’s tone was unmistakable, making Abby wish there was something she could do to help other than just be there to listen. “Have you talked to your manager about it?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Gesturing at Abby’s forgotten ice cream, she asked, “What are you having?”

“Oh.” She reached for the carton. It had melted a bit around the edges, so she gave it a quick stir. “Vanilla bean with caramel sea-salt.”

“Hand it over.” Abby smiled and did just that. They sat for a while and watched the movie while Clarke finished the ice cream. When she was done, she handed her the empty container. Abby frowned slightly at her daughter for not just getting up and throwing it away, but wasn’t in any kind of mood herself to move. With a sigh, she leaned over and placed it back on the bedside table while continuing to watch the movie. “When are you guys going out?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Do you have a dress picked out?”

Brows rising, she glanced over at her daughter. Should she? It was still a day away. “Not yet.”

“Oooh, let me help you.” Just then, Clarke shot out of her bed, nearly jogged across the room and into the closet.

Taking the remote, Abby paused the movie. “Really? Now?”

“You watch, and I’ll look,” Clarke hollered back.

Well, why not, she thought and sank into her pillows, hitting the play button once again. But not too long later she heard Clarke growl.

“Ugh, Mom, when’s the last time you went shopping?”

For dresses? Hmm, she had to think. With a pang of sadness, she remembered Jake’s funeral was the last time she had bought a dress. Not wanting to bring that up while her daughter was looking for a dress for her date, she called back, “I don’t know. A while ago.”

“Some of these dresses have shoulder pads!” Clarke sounded so aghast it made her laugh.

She really had to go through her closet and donate some things one of these days. “They were the style in the eighties.”

“Ugh, gross.”  

Eventually, enough time when by that Abby was only just starting to get back into the movie when Clarke stepped back into the room with a dress in her hands.

“What about this one?”

She frowned at the dark blue material. She wore to one of the university’s fundraisers remembering how itchy and warm it was and scrunched her nose at it. “Why do I have to wear a dress?”

Clarke’s hands fell along with the dress. “I know what you’re thinking and, Mom, you’re not going on a date in a pantsuit.”

With a half-hearted shrug, she glanced down at the dress hanging limply in her daughter’s arms. “I suppose it’ll work.”

“It’s a little long, though…” Clarke mused holding it up to herself.

“Are you kidding?” Abby scoffed. “It hits me above the knee, Clarke.”

“Mom, you have great legs. Don’t you want to show them off a little?”

She pressed her lips together. She never thought a day would come when she would be talking to her daughter about showing off her legs for a man. “I guess a little wouldn’t hurt,” she began slowly, but when she looked back, her daughter was gone. She was back once again in the depths of her closet, and it wasn’t another few seconds later that she returned looking triumphant.

“No, forget the other one. This one!”

“Clarke that’s…” Something she wore a long, long time ago - before she gained ten pounds after Jake had died and the five extra she had on now… “I don’t think that’ll fit me anymore.”

“Oh, come on.” She held it out to her and shook it slowly from side to side. “At least try it on.”

With a slight sigh, she tossed back her blankets and begrudgingly rose from the bed. Taking the dress from her daughter, she eyed it skeptically but took it with her into the bathroom, nevertheless.

To her utter amazement, the soft, black material slid over her and fit smoothly. Its long sleeves would keep her warm in the Seattle night air, but she had forgotten just how far the neck v’d down. It was the reason it had sat in the back of her closet as it showed more than a significant amount of cleavage. Throw on a pair of black heels, and she would be all legs and boobs.

Wonderful.

Her eyes slowly drifted down to her abdomen, and she held her breath and turned sideways, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The slightest curve could be seen and only if you were looking for it. Would he notice? Would Clarke? Oh, how she hoped not.

“How’s it look?” Clarke called out.

Pulling open the door, Abby took a few steps into her room and held out her arms. “Well?”

“Ooo la la, Mom,” Clarke began expressing her approval. “Very nice. He’ll love it.”

Her eyes narrowed before dropping to her chest. “Of course, he’ll love it.” She reached up and gathered the material between her cleavage and pulled it together. “Maybe I could pin it a bit…”

“No, don’t you dare!” Clarke held up her hands looking horrified. Abby let go as her daughter's features softened. “You look nice, Mom. Really. Even with a bit of boob.”

A breathy laugh bubbled up from her chest. Well, if she looked nice why not give Marcus something to look at? Not that she'd admit it to Clarke, but the idea of him not being able to take his eyes off her thrilled her.

Pointing with her thumb over her shoulder, she asked, “Can I take it off now and finish my movie?”

“Definitely.” Clarke smiled and got to her feet. Walking over to her, Clarke took her by the shoulders, narrowed her eyes slightly. “Right after we pick out shoes.”

Abby let her head fall back and groaned.

* * *

“You're going somewhere tomorrow?” his daughter's voice came from behind him, and he looked up wide-eyed. “Where?”

He looked over at his manager and asked, “You couldn't have said something?” But Roan’s hands were already raised in the air as he walked out from the bar and into the back room.

Bastard.

He turned in his chair, looking into the inquisitive eyes of his teenager and with one simple word, stated, “Out.”

“Out?” This wasn’t his daughter’s reply but Bellamy’s, who must not have been far behind her as he stepped behind the bar that Roan vacated moments ago, and reaching into one of the coolers, took out a can of Sprite. “Since when do you go out?”

Marcus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. All this disbelief was becoming a bit tedious. “Believe it or not, yes.”

Bellamy looked dubious. His brows furrowed together. “Like on a date?”

“Wait, you’ve got a date?” Octavia lowered her phone very deliberately down onto the bar. Apparently, his social life just got far more interesting than her Facebook. “No way! Wait…” She reached out and grasped a hold of his forearm, the side of her mouth lifting into a knowing smirk. “It's with Abby, isn't it?”

Bellamy looked back and forth between them. “Who's Abby?”

“Yes, with Abby,” he told Octavia who squealed and said, _I should have bet Indra money!_ , then picked up her phone and began typing furiously away. How or why she'd been talking to Indra about Abby, he’d deal with in a moment. To Bellamy, he said, “You used to play with her daughter, Clarke, when her dad came by. He's the one we had a memorial for last year.”

“And now you’re going to date his widow?”

His look held judgment that Marcus didn’t appreciate. “He was my friend and so was she.”

“I like her.” Octavia shrugged, and he smiled over at her.

“Was she here?” Bellamy asked, before taking a drink of his beverage.

“Yep, earlier today,” Octavia replied. “You should have seen it. Dad had the cutest puppy dog eyes for her.”

Marcus snorted. He most certainly did not have puppy eyes. “Hardly.”

“You so did, Dad.” She began to dramatically bat her eyes, and glancing over at her brother, told him, “He looked at her the way you look at Gina.”

Bellamy straightened to full height. His jaw clenching and unclenching, before replying, “I don't look at Gina any way.”

He never saw his son snap to the defensive so quickly. He chuckled and in unison with his daughter, said, “You so do.”

“Hah!” Octavia laughed and held up her hand for Marcus to high-five. “Jinx, you owe me a Coke!”

“On ice or in a can?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“Oooh, can, please.” He gave a nod and moved behind the bar. Bellamy moved out, taking his vacated barstool. Popping the top of the drink, he placed the can of Coke in front of his daughter just as she held up a finger at him. “Please don't wear a polo, and don't do your Loony Toon’s impressions.”

“I hadn't planned on it. Though, she's known me long enough she's probably heard them.”

“Kudos to her for sticking around if she has. But still, don't risk it until you’ve put a ring on it.”

Insulted, he only bristled a moment before daring to ask, “Anything else?”

His son and daughter looked at one another.

“Don't be late,” Bellamy said.

“Open doors for her.”

“Don't split the check, even if she insists.”

“Compliment how good she smells.”

Both he and Bellamy looked over at Octavia. But it was Bellamy who was the one to raise a brow and echo, “Smells?”

Octavia made a face at them both. “Yeah, smells. Everyone always compliments on how great we look, but us girls spend a lot of money to smell good, and you guys never notice it.”

While he agreed women did spend a great amount of money to look and smell good, even his own cologne wasn’t cheap, the father in him, rose up in challenge. “You’re sixteen, no one needs to be smelling you.”

“Hey.” Octavia snapped her fingers. “We’re focusing on you here. You’re the one who hasn’t had a date in… what, Bell, years?”

“Mmhm, last one was CeCe.”

“God, I hated her.”

“CeCe and I never dated,” he said, feeling like a broken record. One mistake in judgment that he would never hear the end of. “We were… friends.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Bellamy dismissed. “Buy her flowers.”

“No, don't!” Octavia vehemently shook her head.

“No?” he asked, doing a double take. The was the one thing he had planned to do.

“Definitely don’t. It's too needy on the first date. It's sweeter when you do it after you've been dating a while,” she explained.

Bellamy gave her a light shove on the arm. “How would you know?”

“Because I have a social life, and I read things other than graphic novels.”

“All right, so let me get this straight,” he said and began to tick everything off on his fingers. “No polos, no impressions. Be on time, don't let her pay, compliment how she smells and don't buy her flowers?”

“I don't know…” Bellamy shrugged. “I'd buy her flowers.”

“And tell us again why you never had a second date with a girl?” Octavia pushed herself up, and with her forearms on the bar, bore her eyes into his and said, “No, Dad, trust me.”

He did trust her, sure, with today’s dating, but he and Abby were from a whole other generation. When dating seemed so much simpler. He hadn’t been nervous before but he sure as hell was now.


	5. Chapter 5

She awoke Saturday morning in a _mood_. Call it hormones or excitement for her date with Marcus, but lying in bed, staring at her white ceiling she found she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Which was nothing new or unexpected. She’d given up trying to push him from her thoughts around two in the morning when her mind wouldn’t stop coming up with different ways he’d react to the news.

To her utter annoyance, the moment she accepted he had a permanent place in her heart was the moment she finally relaxed and was finally able to get some sleep.

Taking her phone from under the opposite pillow, she swiped it open, reading quickly over any notifications then brought up her messages. A text from Clarke wished her a good time on her date and under no circumstances was she to alter her dress in any way. Abby made a face but replied her thanks and that she wouldn’t even though she wanted to. Another from Diana asking how her talk with Marcus went (she’d get back to that one later), and another she was pleased to see, from Marcus. It was sent much earlier that morning asking if she minded him picking her up at six-thirty instead of seven.

Her belly swooped with nerves, but she took a deep breath and typed, _Of course_ , along with a little smile emoji.

His response came back quickly. _Glad to hear it. I managed to pull a few strings, but the only reservation I could grab us was right at seven._

Well if he was in a mood to talk... Sinking down into her pillows, she decided to take full advantage of having nothing pressing to do and nowhere to go. Besides, she wasn’t ready to stop talking to him, so she typed, _Where are we going?_

_Ah, if I told you, it would spoil the surprise._

Abby sighed. She loved surprises just about as much as she loved a root canal. Surely, he wouldn’t keep it to himself if she really wanted to know? But she didn’t want to be the woman who said she hated surprises. Clinking her tongue, her eye flicked back up to the ceiling and then back down at her phone. A small smile pulling the edges of her lips up as she typed, _What if I told you I had a food allergy and I needed to know if you were going to take me to a place that would kill me?_

 _DO you have a food allergy?_ The little-raised eyebrow emoji that the end made her laugh. He was calling her bluff.

Technically, sushi and a few other foods were now crossed off her list of the foreseeable foods she would be eating for the next seven months… but what sushi place in Seattle required reservations?

 _No._ She typed back, glad he couldn’t see her pout.

_Lol. Nice try though._

_Mmhmm._

_Did you just wake up?_

She pressed her lips together while guiltily glancing up at the time on her screen. _Maybe._

_I wish I could sleep in but alas, work beckons._

Her lips pulled down into a thoughtful frown. All her memories of Jake and Marcus had always been at his bar. As an owner of not one but two businesses, she was sure there was a fair amount of work involved but had he also not lived above it there probably wouldn’t be the temptation to always do more. _Didn't anyone ever warn you not to live where you work?_

_No one ever has, no._

_Marcus._

_Yes, Abby?_

_You shouldn’t live where you work._

_Haha. Consider it taken under advisement._

_Are you busy again?_

_Packed to the gills. Fancy coming down and watching a game? I could get you a good seat and make you breakfast._

_That’s very sweet, thank you, but I’ll pass. I have a date tonight I have to get ready for._

_Oh? Who’s the lucky bastard?_

_This guy I know. He works too much, but he’s not bad to look at,_ her finger hovered over the screen, watched the little line blink for a small second before she added, _and helps that he’s great in the sack._ She added her own winky emoji and hit send before she could change her mind.

She let her phone drop down onto her chest and covered her face with her hands. Why did she _do_ that? It sounded good in her head. She was so horrible at flirting. She’d never been good at it with Jake either. Always too direct. Subtlety was never her strong suit. _Shit_. She grabbed her phone noticing he had yet to respond, and she pressed her lips together, silently praying she hadn’t gone too far… but then her phone vibrated, startling her, and when she read his response, she grinned into her pillow.

_I’m sure he’d be very glad to know this... having said that I can only imagine he’d think the same. Only his words would be gorgeous and fucking fantastic. But again, that’s me._

As much as she wanted to lie in bed all day and do this, she should really get up and do something because she had a feeling if they got going like they were, it might go on for a while. She fought the urge to remark about his equally fantastic bedroom skills and bit her lip and while she typed, _I’m sure. Go to work. I’ll see you tonight._

_Yes, you will._

After she read over their texts one final time, took her phone over to her dresser so it could charge while she decided what she wanted to do but before that, coffee. One cup because she was cutting back.

As it turned out there was much that did need to be done. Clarke had already run the dishwasher, and with the one load of laundry that they had in, the only thing left was to finish grading the worksheets and make sure she had covered everything they’d gone over in class on the test. So, Coffee in hand, she took her bag with her papers and laptop upstairs.

Her plan had been to get through the worksheets first, and then start on the test, but three sips of her coffee (there was an aftertaste she wasn’t too hip on. Maybe she just let it get too cold?) and five worksheets later, she felt her energy slipping and her eyelids begin to grow heavy. Glancing at the time, it was just after noon. If this was how her pregnancy was going to go, she was never going to get any work done. With Clarke, she was tired in the beginning but eventually, her energy came back to her. She had a few more weeks before there was a chance of that happening though.

 _Thirty minutes,_ she told herself. A small thirty-minute nap and she’d get up and take a bath. She closed her laptop, shuffled the papers to the side of her bed with it, and not long after her head hit the pillow she was out.

_His lips were on her neck, trailing down and down further still. Her heart pounded in her chest so loud she was sure he could hear it. Her hands threaded into his dark hair, arching underneath his lips as they captured her nipple between them._

_Her breath hitched, and his name left her lips in almost a reverent whisper, “Marcus.”_

_One of his hands moved up and cupped her other breast, giving it the attention he couldn’t while focused on the other. She clamped her lips together and moaned low in the back of her throat. But then Marcus lifted his head and said, “Don’t hold yourself back... I want to hear you, Abby.”_

_Being vocal had never been something she’d done much of. Too many years of sleeping with her daughter down the hall from them had her lips clamping shut and her moans cried into pillows._

_But there with Marcus… with his lips on her skin and his words in her ear, his own moans filling the room… God, if that didn’t make it hotter… make her want to show him how he made her feel._

_Heat may have risen in her cheeks but she did as he asked and from then on, every touch, every kiss, every thrust of him inside her, filling her, she didn’t hold back. She came, crying out his name and soon when his thrusts became harder, quicker… when he was about to tip over the edge, she sensed him pulling away from her and tightened her legs around his waist. He came with a loud groan and her name on his lips._

_He collapsed down beside her, pulling her against his chest as they caught their breath._

_That was..._

_“Mom…”_

She woke with a start, blinking up into her light-filled room with Clarke by her bed and her hand on her shoulder. She sat up in a daze, her heart racing. She closed her eyes, unable to look at her daughter with her dream so _vividly_ in her mind…

“Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine…” She reached for her phone but then remembered she had put it on her dresser earlier. How long had she been asleep? “I was just taking a nap. What are you doing home?”

“I worked the morning shift, remember?” Clarke replied, looking at her with a furrowed brow. “I brought back some lunch for you. A sandwich from Huli-Huli. Pineapple and ham with teriyaki like you like. I hope it’s okay. I tried to text you, but I guess you didn’t hear your phone.”

The small brown paper bag was heavier than she thought it’d be, and she didn’t realize just how hungry she was until she looked inside. She hummed as she removed the sandwich from the bag. “This is great, honey. Thank you.”

“Are you sick? You never take naps.”

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I think my busier than normal week just caught up with me.” The smell of the sandwich made her mouth water. She took a bite and groaned.

Clarke arched a brow. “Hungry?”

She nodded slowly while she chewed, then after swallowing said, “Starving.”

“Well, I just came home to drop that off. I’m going out.”

“Aw, with Finn?”

“No, with Lexa.”

She tilted her head, taking a napkin from the bag, she wiped her mouth. “Lexa?” Clarke just gazed down at her, giving nothing away making her frown. She used to be able to read her daughter so well. “Are you two getting along now?”

Clarke shrugged. “I think so? We’ll see.” With a tilt of her chin, she said, “There’s potato salad in the bag too.”

Her shoulders fell, disappointed Clarke was being so vague but hummed her delight and appreciation nevertheless, and said, “I love you, honey,” then took another bite sure Clarke would talk to her about it when she was ready. She always did.

“I love you, too. Have a good time tonight, and I might stay out, but I’ll text you letting you know for sure.”

She held up her hand to her mouth and shifted the contents of her bite to one side of her cheek so she could say, “Okay, bye.”

She dropped her hand and continued to chew. The sweet burst of pineapple mixed with the teriyaki sauce made her moan. Huli-Huli was one of the most popular food trucks in downtown Seattle. She and Clarke stumbled by the Hawaiian stand one summer while on the way home from the farmers market. After that day, it became their place. Their stop anytime they were downtown together. Which sadly, was becoming fewer and fewer as the years went on. Clarke bringing her lunch from it still touched that little place in her heart that was just for them.

Sandwich in hand she got out of bed and went to retrieve her phone. A curse fell from her lips when she saw the time. It was nearly three. _Shit_. She’s been asleep for three hours and she still felt slightly groggy. Shaking her head, she took the bag with her potato salad and headed downstairs. She’d finish the sandwich, but she’d save the rest for later.

With the food in the fridge and the laundry in the dryer, Abby made her way into the bathroom. She started the shower and clicked on the fan, then undressing, stepped under the warm spray.

There wasn’t any reason to rush so she took her time. She relaxed under the heat as she washed, conditioned, and exfoliated. All things she did on a daily or every-other-day basis. Before she got in the shower, she had remembered to grab a fresh razor because when she had to think about how long it’d been since she changed her old one, it was hard to recall… so, too long. She needed to shave. And not just a quick swipe over her legs like usual but thorough and touching on another area that could use her attention as well.

Not that it really mattered. He wouldn't be getting near _that_ particular area… even though he already had. It was their first date, and they were adults. They were adults who had a modicum of self-control.

When she was done, she dried then slathered herself with lotion, and with a towel wrapped around her walked over to her closet where she debated a lot longer than necessary on underwear. On the one hand, if she wore something not particularly sexy it'd help when it came to keeping her hormones in check. On the other, she was pregnant and her days of wearing _anything_ sexy for a long while were numbered.

The decision was made for her though as her dress was so thin she had only a few choices. To wear nothing (that wasn't really a choice because that was most certainly _not_ happening), wear an equally sheer thong, or wear something comfortable and have visible lines. The thong won.

Underwear and bra on, she put her robe back on until it got closer to the time to go. Her stomach was a mess of nervous knots, so she pulled up Hulu and finally watched a few episodes of _The Handmaid's Tale_ while grading the last of the worksheets.

At six, she started to get ready. She clicked on her hair straightener, letting it heat up while she dusted on light makeup. With her hair done, she slipped on the dress and had just sprayed on perfume when she heard the doorbell. She glanced down at her phone, that had been resting on the counter next to her lip gloss. He was five minutes early. And she still had to put on her shoes which were downstairs.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and unconsciously placing a hand over her abdomen she sighed. Other than looking a little tired, she didn’t think she looked too bad. And if the dress did its job, it would draw a good portion of his attention and hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to notice.

Grabbing her phone and her lips gloss, she flipped off the light and made her way downstairs.

Not wanting to keep him waiting longer, she went to the door before getting her shoes.

The sight of him standing there, unshaven, dressed in from head to toe in black looking at her like she was likely looking at him made her knees a little weak. It should be a crime for a man to look that good.

“Hey,” he said. A slight smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Hi,” she replied, and stepping to the side, tucked her hair behind her ear. He took a few steps inside and she closed the door behind him. Then realized with her bare feet she had to look up a bit more than she usually did to see him. “I just have to get my shoes, and I'll be ready.”

He nodded. “All right.”

She didn’t have to go far, just across the room over by the couch where she’d dropped them earlier when she came down to grab the laundry. In the end, she and Clarke had decided on a pair of four-inch black stilettos which turned out to be a fabulous choice she discovered. Stepping back over to Marcus, she was a hell of a lot closer to eye level than before.

“Ready?” she asked between the few feet that separated them.

With his dark eyes trained on hers, he took a step and then another towards her until he was close enough he could lean down and kiss her cheek. “You look… smell amazing.”

Her top teeth sank into her bottom lip for a moment before saying, “Thank you. It's new.” Taking a deep breath, reached up and brushed a small white piece of lint from his chest and replied, “You don't smell so bad yourself.”

“Thank you.” He chuckled. “Mine’s not new. You look beautiful, too, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, then held out a hand and asked, “Shall we?”

Returning his smile, she took his hand and just like in the bar, their fingers threaded together like they’d done it a thousand times before and he led her outside.

“Now will you tell me where we're going?” she asked him while clicking on her seat belt as he began to drive.

“Yes, my lady, we are going downtown to Spinasse.”

“Spinasse,” she echoed while narrowing her eyes in thought. “I haven’t heard of it.”

“It's new. I've been there a couple of times with Octavia.” He took his eye from the road to look over at her and ask, “No allergies or aversions to Italian?”

She smiled remembering their messages. “None. I love Italian.”

His eyes drifted down then quickly away. She didn’t hide her smile.

“So tell me, what have you been up to these last couple months?” He reached over and took her hand and her heart did a little flip in her chest. “How are classes?”

“It’s just the one class, but it's going well so far.”

He glanced over at her. “What’s the class?”

She looked away, out the window to the Seattle skyline as he took the on-ramp toward the city. “Embryology.”

“Ah, interesting.” His hand pulsed around hers. “Do you teach the before mechanics as well or only the result?”

She looked over and narrowed her eyes at him. His eyes were crinkled at the sides and looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek. He was teasing her. “Are you being cute, Kane?”

Grinning, he was grinning at her now. “I was attempting it, yes. Did it work?”

“Maybe…” She pressed her lips together in a failed attempt to keep her smile at bay. Damn him. “No, I do not teach the before. They teach that class in high school. I teach the fertilization and development in the first eight weeks.”

“And after eight weeks?” It was an innocent question and was followed with a genuine curiosity in his eyes, but it still made her swallow nervously.

“After eight weeks it’s a fetus,” she told him as matter-of-factly as she could.

“Oh, huh, I didn’t know that.”

He took his hand from hers as they neared their exit, so he could shift, and she used the pause in their conversation to change the subject. “How’s Octavia? Ready for her game tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “She’s more than ready.”

For the next little while as he drove through downtown he told her about Octavia’s team, what position she played (forward), and how the different positions worked on the field. The game wasn’t as difficult to envision, but he still told her she needed to go with him to a real game sometime and she actually agreed.

To her surprise, he took I-5 and went east instead of going west into downtown. Turned out Spinasse was the best-kept secret tucked up on Capitol Hill with the indie stores, historic mansions, and some of the best city views. He pulled off the street right in front of the restaurant.

He put the car in neutral and popped on the emergency brake then reached out and touched her hand. Lifting up his finger he murmured, _wait,_ and then got out. She smiled to herself as she watched him exchange his keys for a slip of paper with a young man in a vest. He shook his hand and then clapped the young man on the shoulder then went around to her side of the car, opening the door for her.

He held out his hand, and she took it warmed by the simple gesture. He was certainly a surprise.

Reaching for the door, he opened it allowing her to go in ahead. The restaurant inside was small and mutely lit. Tables were set on worn wooden tables with white plates and candles in small glasses. The walls were cream colored with a few simple Italian oil paintings and wine racks.

She felt Marcus place his hand on her low back as a woman greeted them. “Reservation for Kane,” he told her, and her eyes widened slightly.

“Yes, right this way, sir.” They followed her over to the last empty table, a table for two beside the window. “Your waiter, Walter will be right with you.”

When she imagined their date, she had to admit, this wasn’t really what she was expecting. But then again, it should have been. When she first met him, she thought he’d been pretentious, arrogant even. But it seemed over the years that arrogance had worn off. He didn’t take her to some fancy ostentatious restaurant in the city, but found somewhere with a bit of charm, a bit of old warmth… a lot like he was now.

She was about to open her mouth and ask how he had discovered the place when their waiter came over to the table. After his introduction, his list of specials and wines, he sat a plate with a variety of slices of bread on the table between them and asked, “May I get you something to drink?”

“I’d love a sparkling water, please.”

“You’re not drinking?”

She looked up from her menu. “No, I’m… I’m taking medication for something, and I can’t mix it with alcohol.”

He frowned. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Not at all. You'll just have to have an extra drink for me.”

“That's all right. If you're not drinking, I'm not drinking.” He looked up and told their waiter, “I'll have what she's having.”

As touched as she was, she said, “Marcus that's really unnecessary…”

“I'm really okay.” Leaning forward, he crossed his arms in front of him on the table, and asked, “So, how was your day?”

She sighed. The set in his eyes there wasn’t going to be a way to change his mind. Reaching for a bit of bread, she confessed, “Good. Relaxing and not at all productive.”

“We all deserve those days every now and then.”

“I suppose we do. But I wish I would have saved it for a weekend when I wasn’t giving a midterm the following Monday.”

His lips lifted into a sideways smirk. “I'll have to remember not keep the teacher out too late then.”

“Don’t you worry, the teacher is just fine,” she told him breaking off a bite of bread and popping it into her mouth. “What about you? How'd your sports teams do?”

He sighed a bit dramatically and sat up. Taking his menu from in front of him. “Mine sadly got knocked out yesterday. I'll recover, eventually.”

She nodded and took her own menu while fighting back a yawn. “Did it have the placed packed again?”

“It was. It was a madhouse.”

“Good for business then?”

“Extremely good for business.”

She shook her head. “I just can’t imagine all those people coming out in the middle of a workday for a game.”

“Ah, but it’s not just one game it’s many games between many countries, and it only happens once every four years.”

“Well, that makes it a bit more understandable.”

“Indeed. My staff may grumble about it but they more than make their fair share of tips.”

“It helps that the food is good. It’s been a long time since I’ve had dinner there.”

“I thought about it. I also thought about making you dinner myself upstairs. But I didn't think it would be very romantic to have my sixteen-year-old daughter at home with us on our first official date.”

Her heart sped up at that. Come to think of it where was Octavia when she spent the night with him? “She wasn’t...”

He chuckled a low knowing chuckle. “No, she was staying with a friend.”

“Oh, thank God,” she said.

“We weren't exactly quite were we?”

She felt her cheeks flame with heat and dared glance up from her menu from under her lashes at him. His smug grin told her he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. So all right, if he wasn’t ignoring what happened neither would she. “No, we were not…” she quipped and then glancing back down at the menu for his benefit, added, “not even when we made it to the bedroom.”

* * *

If his staff thought he was bad before, he would be smiling for days at the look in those playful, teasing eyes of hers.

It was on the tip of his tongue to respond he tried to get them back there but someone had been a bit impatient when their waiter appeared.

“Are you ready to order?”

Clamping his lips together, he glanced down at the menu though he already knew what he was having.

With his attention on Abby, she replied, “I'll have the tajarin al ragu.”

“I'll have the agnolotti all'agnello,” he told him and handed him the menu. “Thank you.”

“So…” she began, once Walter was gone. She tilted her head to the side offering him a more than pleasant view of her neck and collar and he did his damnedest to not allow his eyes continue further down because he was a man and not a teenager. But Goddamn it all they still fell, and he drank her in only for a handful of seconds before he tore his gaze back to hers. The look in her eyes told him she knew he was looking at her, and way she leaned forward and smiled told him she didn’t mind one bit. Thank Christ. He lifted his drink to his lips just as she asked, “So tell me more about the kilt.”

He choked on his drink, and damn her, she laughed.

From then until their dinner arrived, he told her about Scotland and of his mother. His religious upbringing and how as soon as he could get away from it, he did. In turn, she told him about growing up in Seattle. About not making the cut on the cheerleading team because she was “too smart” and how she always knew she wanted to be a doctor. They stayed away from talking about their former loves and focused on the history that was a mystery.

He learned she had an affinity for rom-coms and thriller novels, and he admitted he was a sucker for sci-fi movies and to her delighted surprise, Dante.

There were many little things about her he had tucked away in the back of his mind when it came to Abigail Griffin. All placed in a file marked, _not for you._ However, those little things he could appreciate now. Things like the way her face lit up when she smiled, how wonderfully full her laugh was, and how her eyes when they met his had the ability to make his heart leap and stop all at once.

Their dinner came, and while they ate they talked about food. Their favorite food trucks and the things they preferred to cook at home all while sharing bites of each other’s food. It was a first date, the getting to know you but without the awkward actual getting to know you. They were already comfortable around one another, already good friends, and were not left wanting in the chemistry department.

When they were done their meals, the waiter left them with a dessert menu. Her eyes lit up, and she took it immediately but another yawn, probably the third one in as many minutes left her.

“Are you sure you want to stay for dessert? You seem tired.”

“No, I do.” She reached over and took his hand. “Please don't take this personally. I'm having a great time. I've just been exhausted lately.” With a squeeze of her hand it was gone, picking up the menu once again. “So help me out here. Strawberry or chocolate?”

He hummed. Tilted his head and with a smirk, asked, “Is this some kind of test?’

“It might be.”

There were other things on that menu. Most of them paired with chocolate this or that, but she picked the one thing all on its own over the others. He took a chance and said, “Strawberry then.”

The smile she gave him he knew he picked the right one. He ordered their dessert. Shared it while talking about their kids. Him how much quieter it was when Bellamy was gone, and how much Abby was not looking forward to when Clarke left. Sensing her mood slipping with that, he confessed to her about the advice he received before their date. About Bellamy’s insistence he buy her flowers and Octavia's advice to complement the way she smelled. She’d laughed over much of it, and it killed him when she shrugged her shoulders and said, “I wouldn’t have minded flowers.”

He’d slapped the table and said, “I knew it.”

But she shook her head and simply said, _Next time_. And yes, she could be sure she’d get those flowers.

Once the bill was paid they slipped outside into the brisk air and waited for the valet to bring his car.

She turned to him, and said, “Thank you for the wonderful evening.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Her hands rose and crossed across her chest. Though it was July, a storm front had come in and dipped the evening temperature down into the high forties for the last few days. He lifted up his hands and rubbed them down her arms hoping to warm her. “I wasn’t sure…”

“Stop, it was…” she trailed off and yawned again. He huffed a laugh as her head dropped against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I was going to ask if you minded if we stopped at the pub before I take you home, but I'm afraid you might fall asleep on the way,” he quipped meaning for it to be teasing but her head rose, and she blinked up at him.

“No, let's do. I'm not ready for this evening to be over.”

He felt his heart speed up from the look in her eyes. It was the same one from that night all those weeks back. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

The drive back to his place was a quick ten-minute trip during which a small voice in his head told him they probably wouldn’t be going back to Hawthorne Hills. However, a much louder, much more sensible voice insisted that wouldn't be the case. He’d run in, check on how things were, introduce Abby, and then no matter how she looked at him, he’d take her home because she was tired and there wasn’t a reason to rush things. But then her hand fell on his arm, her fingers tracing patterns on his wrist as he drove and the first voice began to bludgeon the other to death.

Her hand was warm in his as he took them through the crowd and over to the end of the bar. It was a good night. Not bad for a Friday night crowd with an open mic.

Wick and Roan were both behind the bar, the younger man busier toward the stage while his manager hung back observing him with his arms folded across his chest, letting Wick find his rhythm.

“What are you doing here?” he manager asked.

He took Abbie with him around the counter into a small corner where a hall led to the larger coolers and stockroom. Spotting him, Roan walked over to them. “Abby this is Roan, my manager. Roan this is Abby Griffin.”

He gave her a welcoming smile. “Pleased to meet you. Though, I think I’ve seen you here a few times before over the years.”

“I remember, but I don’t think we were ever formally introduced,” she replied.

“Everything going good?” Marcus asked glancing around.

“We’re smooth here. Haven’t seen him all night.” Roan told him, then slipped his gaze back on Abby. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Roan nodded, then excused himself and stepped away to help a group of ladies who had just stumbled up to the bar from a large table looking suspiciously like a bachelorette party.

Marcus looked down at Abby. “He didn’t even offer me anything.”

She shook her head with a soft chuckle, but asked, “Are you keeping an eye out for someone?”

“Yeah, his name’s Pike. He’s the new captain of the fire department and has taken a slight disliking to me.”

Her head tilted, looking right through him. “What did you do to piss him off?”

With a long sigh, he reached up and rubbed his neck. “My crew thought it’d be fun to light off fireworks this last spring which are illegal in the city. He didn’t appreciate how I went over his head and got them out of it.”

She hummed. “So now he’s out to get you.”

“Pretty much. He’s been trying to get me for anything he can. Shit reasons, like being overcapacity and parking.”

Chuckling, she teased, “You seem to have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way when you first meet, don’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t know there’s hope for me yet,” he told her, then leaned down closer to her ear and whispered, “I won you over didn’t I?”

He could tell she was fighting back a smile when she said, “I think it’s fair to say that you did.”

Their eyes held and call him crazy, but he didn’t want to wait until the end of the night to kiss her. His eyes slid to her lips, and he watched as her tongue came out to wet them. He felt her lean into him, and just as he began to dip his head down to close the distance between them a voice from behind them made them both jump.

“Boss, hey, is this your date?”

He looked over to find Jasper Jordan standing in the hall holding a case of Three Floyds with the biggest shit eating grin on his face Marcus had ever seen.

Abby gazed up at him, looking like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Whether it was from his annoyed scowl at the interruption or the way Jasper's delighted gaze bounced between them he couldn't be sure. “Abby this Jasper. He’s apart of our kitchen staff.”

“Nice to meet you,” Abby replied doing a remarkably better job of looking patient with the young man than he. But he supposed she dealt with kids Jasper's age almost on a daily basis.

“For sure. You were right, boss, not exactly Michelle but I what were throwing down,” Jasper supplied making Marcus want to take him by the shoulders and walk him somewhere, anywhere else.

“Shouldn't you be in the kitchen?” he asked, decidedly not looking at Abby but at Jasper.

“I'm actually helping out Roan,” Jasper began, then shifted the box to one hand and with the other pointed a finger gun at him. “But I'm guessing by the look on your face that’s where you want me.”

He guessed correctly.

To Marcus’ relief, Jasper said goodbyes to him and Abby and only when he was gone did Marcus finally look at her. She was smiling, and when she took a step toward him he took the same steps back, pulling her with him into the dark cover of the hall.

Her eyebrows rose, her hands falling on his hips. “You told him I looked like Michelle Pfeiffer?”

“In my defense,” he began holding up a finger. “I told him you were prettier than her.”

“Prettier?”

“Much," he replied quickly. She went to say something in reply but much to his amusement she yawned once again. Chuckling, he rested a hand on the small of her back he pulled her forward so that he could place a kiss to her forehead. “You're tired. Let me take you home. We can do this again maybe soon?”

She hummed, looking up at him. Rising up on her toes, in a low murmur she asked, “How soon?”

“Um…” He swallowed, feeling her hand drift up his chest. He could see her eyes were dark even in the meagerly lit hall and saints alive; she’d be the absolute death of him. Her hand on his chest slid its way up his neck, and he didn’t need any further urging. Closing the distance between them, his lips met hers. Her mouth softened under his and she hummed sending a shiver down his spine. He pulled her against him, and they kissed and kissed some more. When the need for air became too great, he gentled them from the kiss. His forehead fell softly on hers. “Well, if you don't objections about sneaking upstairs I was thinking, breakfast?”


	6. Chapter 6

She had fallen asleep on him.

She really hadn’t meant to. He had gotten her a tee shirt, and she got in bed, he went to lock things up and she had been out for the count. His bed was one of those ridiculous California king-sized beds that when she saw it the first time, had scoffed and said, _Of course, you would have one of these…_ but then he’d kissed her and all thoughts of his acre of a bed had been brushed aside as he lowered himself over her. His sheets were soft, and his pillows smelled like laundry soap and pine and so _Marcus_ that when she closed her eyes just to breath it in she never thought she’d actually fall asleep.

She had, though, and she woke up, blinking in a room with light spilling in from his large picture windows with his arm wrapped around her middle and his nose buried in the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes and listened as he softly snored behind her. Her hand found its way to his arm resting below her breasts and grasped it gently, rubbing her thumb across and back his skin.

Being close to him like this she could almost make herself believe that telling him was going to be easy. But even imagining turning in his arms and kissing him until he was awake enough for her to say the words… even in her mind, they caught in her throat. But the longer she went without telling him the harder she knew it would be. She had to tell him. Today.

Her eyes opened at the sound of her phone vibrating on the small table beside Marcus’ bed. She hated to wake him, but she had a feeling it would be Clarke. So as gently as she could, she reached across the bed, moving from his grasp long enough to grab her phone then sink back.

His head rose, and he blinked over at her.

“Sorry,” she murmured to him while reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair. He hummed sleepily and tightened his grip around her, pulling her snug against his chest then buried his face into her neck with a soft grown that made her softly chuckle.

She swiped her phone to unlock it and stared at the message from her daughter.

_I'm taking it since you're not here that the little extra leg paid off?_

Dropping the phone down on the bed beside her, she buried her face in the pillow and covered the side showing with her hand. Oh, God. She would never be able to look her daughter in the eyes again.

“Mm, morning,” came his rough sleep-filled voice from behind her.

She murmured, “Morning,” in return feeling him press a kiss into her hair.

“What’s got you hiding?”

She moved her hand away from her face long enough to tell him, “I just got a message from my daughter.”

“And?” he asked with mild amusement. Picking up her phone, she quickly unlocked it and pulling up Clarke’s message and held it up. His snort from behind her let her know he had read it and she dropped it back down on the side of the bed away from her then pulled his comforter up over her head. “But why are you hiding? All we did was sleep,” he pointed out, with a teasing tone. “You’re too adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

Pulling comforter off her face, she narrowed her eyes. “Adorable?” she challenged because only small children, puppies, and kittens were _adorable_.

A rich chuckle left him, and he began to drop a row of kisses down her jaw and between each kiss said, “Sexy, I meant sexy.”

She tilted her head up giving him access to her neck which he eagerly took advantage of. “Mmhmm…” she hummed, doubtfully.

“Did you get plenty of rest?” he asked, moving back and grasping her arm so he could roll her onto her back towards him.

Looking up, her eyes held his which were dark with want and sending heat flashing through her. “I did.”

“That’s good,” he murmured quietly, hands stroking over her skin under her shirt moving it up and up while picking up with his task only now his kisses on a very deliberate path down her chest. All the while she tried to keep herself from trembling from the feel of his stubble as it grazed against her skin.

She swallowed, hoping, no _praying_ she wasn’t as sore as she’d been. “Umm… what are you doing?”

“Taking advantage of you fully rested.” His head rose as he looked at her brow furrowed slightly. His look not upset, but confused, like he may have misread her. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say that,” she breathed letting her words trail off but reached up and took his face between her palms drawing him to her.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, shaking his head. She blinked up at him. Was he being serious? Sure, they’d technically been on one date, and maybe they were doing everything completely out of order but she didn’t care. They were friends. _Good_ friends. She cared about him, and she knew he cared about her. They weren’t teenagers in some misguided tv drama. And for God’s sake, she was already pregnant. “We can get up and go have breakfast and…”

“Marcus,” she murmured interrupting him, “you talk too damn much.”

She pulled him down, and he chuckled against her lips, but then that chuckle turned into tandem moans when she hooked her leg around his hip pulling him down fully between her legs. A scrap of silk and his cotton pants were the only barrier separating where he was already hard for her. His hand fell away from her shoulder and reached down slipping under the hem of her shirt, and before she could stop him, came up to cup her breast. His palm ghosted over her nipple and then pinched it between his fingers, but oh so achingly gentle.

 _This_ she could handle…

He didn’t stay there long, though, and she frowned, but his hand was sliding down and further still between her legs and his fingers brushing aside her thong then slipping against her clit and _oh,_ all right... that was better...

He broke away from their kiss, and her eyes opened to see him looking down at her. He turned his strokes against her clit into tight little circles and it made her belly clench and her breath hitch. “God, Marcus,” she murmured before pressing her lips together and dropping her head back into her pillow. She could feel her orgasm building, it was right there. She shouldn’t be right on the edge this fast, but it’d been weeks, and with her pregnancy, her hormones were off the charts. He had been good with his fingers she remembered, and he hadn’t lost it. He had found this… this rhythm she liked before and he strummed tight little flicks against her like he was now and _oh, Mmm..._ she was going to come...

“Let go, Abby,” Marcus told her right before pressing a kiss below her ear, and her eyes fluttered open in time to see his eyes dark with desire and want.

Any other time she might, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him. Shaking her head, she managed to breathe out a, “No, I want you inside me.”

He didn’t argue, and they both sat up long enough for her to shed his shirt and for him shove his cotton pants and boxers down. When she was lying back on the bed, his hands slid up her legs and over her hips, hooking his fingers around her thong pulling them down and off tossing them somewhere forgotten on the floor.

He murmured something that sounded a lot like _beautiful_ , but in less than a heartbeat, she felt the tip of him against her and her mind was filled but nothing but bliss as he pressed himself into her. Abby’s jaw dropped open, his name falling easily from her lips feeling that familiar stretch of muscles. She didn’t like to compare Jake and Marcus but they were like night and day. While Jake was longer than average, Marcus was average but _thick_ and it was all she could do not to cry out at the feel of him.

Fully inside her, Marcus stilled to ask, “Are you all right?”

She nodded, swallowed, and her voice was tight and breathless when she answered with a, “Uh huh. Don’t stop, please.”

“Never.” He pulled out and thrust a shallow thrust into her, slowly began to build a pace that had her eyes scrunching shut and the ache begin to build once more.

Then his mouth covered hers, and his thrusts went quicker and deeper and _Oh…_ the angle had him hitting her clit, and she couldn’t help but moan and gasp into his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders… she was going to come…

“Dad!”

Octavia’s voice from somewhere in the apartment had them both stilling. He groaned and dropped his forehead against hers. His apology came out in between his heavy breaths, “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

She pressed a kiss to his temple while trying to catch her own. “Don’t be.”

His head rose and he kissed her quickly then pulled out of her grabbing his pajama pants from the end of the bed and putting them on quickly while he called out, “Just a minute, Octavia.”

She sat up, taking his shirt and pulling it back on. God, she hoped she hadn’t heard them. 

* * *

 

He pulled on his shirt and retrieved a pair of sweatpants for Abby to put on. They were far too big, but she used the drawstring and made the most of it. They walked out together, down the hall and into the kitchen where he found Octavia with her friend, Luna taking a couple Rockstar’s from the fridge.

“Hey, Dad…” Octavia’s eyes widened spotting Abby beside him. “Oh, hello, Abby. Looks like we both had sleepovers.”

He felt Abby’s forehead drop against his back. He was caught between wanting to laugh at Abby’s embarrassment and wanting to save her from it, but he pulled his most serious expression, and warned, “Octavia…”

His daughter had the good grace to look slightly abashed, but as quickly it was there it was gone. Whatever she wanted winning out over her desire to tease the both of them. “Is it cool if I go with Luna to Westlake Center to shop and meet some friends?”

“How are you getting there?” As much as he wanted the alone time with Abby, there were questions he wanted to be answered before he agreed.

“I’ll be driving,” came Luna’s expressionless, monotone voice.

His hands came up to rest on his hips. “Remind me how long have you had your license, Luna?”

Again, another stone-faced reply, “Three months.”

The idea of Luna behind the wheel of a vehicle slightly terrified him. She was so, he didn’t want to say slow, but just so plodding that it made him question her reaction time. He could always let Octavia drive, but the Westlake Center was a little too far. In the end, it was Abby’s hand on his back reminded what he and Abby could be finishing that made the decision for him. “All right but check in if you go anywhere else.”

“Thanks.” His daughter smiled and both girls made their way past them out of the kitchen. “Nice seeing you again Abby.”

“You too.”

The front door shut, and Marcus heaved a heavy sigh and turned to Abby. Hands on her hips he was about to suggest they go back to the bedroom when she put her hand on his chest.

“I know that look,” she began but then her face fell a bit and swallowed. “Before we... can we maybe talk for a minute?”

For a moment, her comment brought him up short, but then he put his libido and his ego in check remembering there was something she had wanted to talk about. He dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss. “Of course. Do you want some coffee?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

Making his way over to the Keurig machine he tapped the power button and retrieved two mugs sitting them both on the counter then turned and rested his hip against it. “I have to admit, Luna,” he paused as his eyes flicked to the door and then back at her. “She freaks me the hell out. She lives a block over and has been that way since a week after Octavia moved in and dragged her home with her after the first day of school.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and came to stand in front of him, mirroring his stance and leaning against the counter. “She seems very unique.”

“I keep a watch for pagan symbols to turn up tattooed somewhere on her body.” He reached over and taking two different K-Cups held them out for her. French Roast and Sumatra.

She let out a small chuckle and tapped the French Roast cup with the tip of her nail. “I don’t know… Did you ever think it might be drugs?”

Hmm. He genuinely hadn’t thought of that. Not as young as she was, though he was sure her parents were a couple of, as Octavia would call them, hipsters. “Nah, I remember my days of smoking pot. It never had that mellow of an effect on me.”

The look that she gave him was slightly exasperated. “Not _weed_ , Marcus,” she began letting out a small sigh, and taking the cup from him, nudged him over so that she could make her own coffee. “I meant drugs, like mood depressants.”

His mouth dropped open. Oh. Jesus, he never had thought of that. Now he felt like an eejit. “Maybe it could be those.”

“Pot. Really?” She was shaking her head at him. “Do you have cream?”

He nodded and opened the fridge beside him taking out the creamer and handing it to her. “What like you never. In fact, I know you have.”

“I didn’t.” She defended and chuckling, added, “That was all you and Jake...” she trailed off and he watched her face as it fell.

He should have known better than to bring that up. It was one of the good memories he had of the three of them. Jake had talked him into trying some he’d gotten from a guy at work. Neither one of them was the type to get high, not since college anyway, so they lit up for old times’ sake and had been caught by Abby. He could have sworn Jake had talked her into one hit, but he remembered thinking Abby’s outrage had been hysterical. He had spent a good portion of the last of his high purposely not looking at her for fear of bursting into hysterics.

They would always have their memories, and if they were going to be together they both needed to face the fact that times like this would be inevitable.

Reaching over, he took her gently by the shoulders to face him. With a knuckle under her chin, he guided it up until her eyes rose up to meet his. “Abby, it’s all right to talk about him. Jake’s a part of who you are.”

“I know.”

He dipped his head, his brow meeting hers as their noses brushed.

Just as he was about to kiss her, her hand came up and took his. “Marcus, wait.”

Drawing away, he gazed down into her eyes. “What's wrong?”

Her eyes fell between them and he watched as her shoulders rose and fell with the breath that she took. “There's something I have to tell you first before we go any further.”

A sensation akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped over him. “All right.”

She licked her lips. “I…” she began but paused.

Fear, as deep as he’d ever known gripped his chest. Whatever it could be couldn’t be worse than he was starting to imagine. “Abby, you can tell me anything.”

Were those tears in her eyes?

Another deep breath and she said, “I meant to tell you this before, the other day when I came over, but you asked me to dinner and I really wanted a night with you. Like it should have been…”

“Abby, I think I know what this is,” he interrupted her, softly because if he was right, he wanted to make what she had to say as easy as possible.

She arched a brow at him. “You do?”

Her look seemed to say she highly doubted it and now he doubted himself. But it made sense. The tiredness. The not drinking. The medication. Something was wrong. “Are you sick?”

“Sick?”

Well, shit, okay. He took her hands in his and explained the madness in his head, “I just figured the not drinking, how tired you've been...”

“Marcus, I’m not sick.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived because if it wasn’t that what else could have her so hesitant? “I’m relieved to hear you say that.” His eyes bore into hers when he asked, “Is it... Do you not want this?”

“No, Marcus, it’s not that at all.” One of her hands lifted to cup the side of his face. “I care about you. I want more than anything to see where this goes, but I'm afraid you might change your mind once you hear this.”

He took the hand on his cheek and kissed her palm. “Abby, there's nothing you can say to me that can change my mind about us.”

Eyes never leaving hers, he braced himself for whatever she had to say, however, there was nothing that could have possibly prepared him for the words that left her. “The night we spent together before…” He nodded, right before she said, “Marcus, I'm pregnant.”

“Oh.”

He brought his hand up to cover his mouth and took an unconscious step back. A baby. Well… all right. His mind raced back to their night together and Jesus, they had been reckless, but he didn’t think…

That was just it though wasn’t it? He didn’t think.

“Oh,” he repeated with a breath, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her stomach and back up.

“Oh?”

“Umm… give me a moment to catch up.” He shook his head. Now everything made sense. “How long have you known?”

“I found out Tuesday. I would have told you sooner, but I wanted to see a doctor and make sure I was healthy enough, that I…” She stumbled on the last bit, her voice cracking slightly and that’s when he noticed tears in her eyes. “That I wasn't too old to…”

Pulled from his stupor, he closed that step between them and his hands taking hers, gripping. “Hey, you’re not too old.” She bobbed her head in silent agreement, but the tears fell down her cheeks and he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest dick. “Is everything all right? You're healthy and so is…”

It was his turn for his words to fail him. A baby. They were having a baby.

“We're both fine.”

He swallowed. Throat too tight to speak.

“If you want me to go so you can have some time to think about this, I’ll understand. When I found out I -”

His lips fell over hers stopping her with a kiss from speaking because he wouldn’t have her thinking he needed anything other than her. Wrapping his arms around her back, he gathered her against him. “I don’t want you to go.”

A shuddering breath left her, her warm eyes looking up at him searching for what he could only assume was his reassurance. “Say something, please.”

He opened his mouth to speak. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. So many things he probably shouldn’t be and had no right thinking let alone feeling so soon. But those things could wait for another time. Right now what she needed to hear was something he could easily give because despite the how’s and why’s and when this baby, their baby was what mattered. His shock and surprise be damned.

Lifting his hand, he stroked his thumb over her cheek, and said, “Abby, I know this is unexpected, but I can’t help but feel happy about this.”

“Really?”

“I am.”

Her forehead dropped to his chest. Her voice a quiet whisper, “How are we going to do this, Marcus?”

He wrapped his arms around her and dropped his head, lips kissing her hair. “Just like we will with us. One day at a time. We'll figure it out as we go along.”

He felt her nod against his chest, then she moved away, her hands taking his biceps and gripping him. “We should probably talk about things…”

“We should, and we will.” He held up a finger between them. He took her by the hand and walking backward led her from the kitchen and back towards his room. “But for right now, though, if you don’t mind, I would like to kiss you and hold you a little while longer, and then I’ll take you downstairs for breakfast where we can talk until your heart’s content.”

Inside his room, it was her who dropped his hand and closed the door. Her look turned playful, as she asked, “Just kiss?”

He smiled crookedly at her and walking over to her, shrugged. “It was a tentative plan. It wasn’t etched in stone.”

Leaning down, he picked her up eliciting a small gasp of surprise. And when he placed her down on the bed, he did so gently keeping in mind she carried something that, despite the short time he’d known about it, already owned a piece of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo there you have it! He knows! Okay, wheew, so grab a cup of tea and get comfy. Now comes the fluff... the angst... and sexy stuff, oh and the baby, of course. Thank you to all of you who have been leaving reviews and kudos! I appreciate them all so much.


	7. Chapter 7

Eyes closed, Abby sighed softly. It'd be so easy to fall back asleep as she was, lying on her back in Marcus’ bed, content not to move a muscle after having not one but two of the best orgasms she could remember in an awfully long time. Which was pretty sad, but she’d been out of practice, and not to mention, it'd been quite a while since she could remember feeling so… amorous.

“So six weeks?”

She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. Her hand that had been running through his hair stilled a moment. His head rested high on her stomach just under her breasts where he’d been lying since they’d finished. His fingertips caressing over her side, hip, and yes, over her abdomen.  

She'd been trying not to think too deep into it though because she already cried once. When he stripped her of her clothes and placed the softest kiss imaginable to her belly before making his way up her body. She had to close her eyes to fight back the tears, but it was no use. He whispered her name, and she looked up into his warm brown eyes gazing down at her with so much care, it only made the tears continue to fall. But then he kissed her, and eventually, her tears stopped as he began to make her feel things they'd been denied earlier that morning.

“Actually, eight weeks,” she corrected, “because you count ovulation which is two weeks before.”

He hummed, sounding still seated himself from their recent activities. “I should come and sit in on your class.”

A soft chuckle bubbled up from her imagining him sitting in the back of the lecture hall with her students as she droned on about gestation and the dividing of cells. She couldn’t see him finding any of it remotely interesting, especially considering she would very soon be past the point that she taught in her pregnancy.

“You'd get bored ten minutes in,” she told him, smiling softly.

“I doubt that.” He rose then, moved up to lie beside her. Propping up on his elbow, putting his head on his fist so he could easily look down into her eyes. “You know I've told you how I feel. What about you? How do you feel about everything?”

She turned on her side, mirroring him. “Well, I've had a few more days to think about it all. I was shocked, to say the least. I never thought after all these years of not…” she trailed off meeting his eyes a fraction of a second before looking down at the bed between them not wanting to finish the thought that she never got pregnant again after all the years married to Jake, but the look in his eyes told her that he understood. “That at my age it would be so easy to get pregnant," she amended.

“You're not old,” he insisted much like he had after she had first told him.

“I'm not _young_ , Marcus,” she challenged back. And in that, there was also more than just her age and the baby being healthy. It was also about them going forward and what this baby meant for them. “Clark and Bellamy are in college. Octavia’s going to be a senior next year. You realize we're starting over.”

He scoot a bit closer to her and rested his hand over her sheet-clad hip. “I take it by your tone you're not happy about that?”

She tried not to be distracted by the way his thumb trailed back and forth making her tremble slightly beneath his touch.

“I wasn't at first,” she said. There wasn’t a reason to lie to him. This wasn’t planned. Even if they were to get together without this pregnancy hanging over them, she highly doubted the chance they would have talked about having more children.

Normal adults their age talked about traveling and enjoying an empty house after the children had gone, not of deciding between Pampers versus Huggies and what good preschools should they start looking at _now,_ so they could get on the waiting list.

Most normal adults except them.

“And now?” he asked, gently.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? They had been naive enough not consider the consequences and the choice had been taken from them. Come what may, they were having a baby.

“And now I'm okay,” she replied easily because she was. She had to be. “Better now that you know,” she let herself admit.

He smiled at that and leaned toward her, and her heart did a small flip as she met him halfway in a soft, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, his forehead softly fell against hers. “We're in this together. I won’t have to do this alone.”

“And I don't want you to think you're obligated …” she began.

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head, interrupting her with a, “Hey, that'll be enough of that.” Reaching up he brushed a lock of her hair that had fallen into her face. “Abby even had you not been pregnant I'd still want to be with you. The knowledge of this baby hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how _did_ he feel about her, but she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready to hear what he might say or even what he might _not_ say. She knew enough to know he cared about her, just as she cared about him, and for now, that was enough.

Instead of speaking, she moved towards him and he gathered her in his arms and rolled onto his back taking her with him. Her head fell on his chest, and they were both quiet for long moments while she listened to the sound of his heartbeat under her ear and he ran his fingers up and down her bare back.

She felt him press a kiss on her head and then ask, “Do you remember what you said to me just after Aurora left?”

“Which time?”

He huffed a laugh and his arm draped over her, gripping around her. “The first time. The time Jake came down to the bar so I wouldn’t have to drink alone. I ended up talking him into a few too many drinks. So many that you had to come down to get him. I remember you being angry with me, not for Jake but at what I was doing to myself. Before you left you told me I had a choice. I could keep drinking like I was, or I could pick myself up and be ready for when my daughter came home. I never forgot that, and I didn’t drink a drop after that night…” he paused to chuckle before adding, “well, not to that extent and never for that reason. The way I see it, we can think of this baby as a mistake or we can accept it as the gift it is and be the parents he or she deserves.”

She swallowed, touched by his words beyond anything she could imagine, and tears gathered in her eyes once more. How was she supposed to keep a dry eye when he kept saying things like that to her?

Her head rose, and she looked up into his eyes not caring if he saw the effect his words had on her. “When did you get so wise?”

The side of his mouth lifted into a small smile. “A little while after I met you.”

She smiled and reached up, her thumb caressing back and forth over his stubbled cheek while telling him, “Have I told you how much I’m loving this beard of yours?”

He grinned at her. “You know I assumed so, that’s why it’s staying.”

Leaning down, she kissed him. It was meant to be a small, fleeting thing, but his mouth opened under hers, and with a slip of his tongue against her lips they deepened the kiss. A moan leaving her, as his hand came up to palm her cheek and his fingers threaded into her hair.

While she was content to lie in bed kissing Marcus all afternoon, they should really do something other than spend it naked. As much as she would enjoy it. They had children, a business to run, and papers to grade. She was saved from having to suggest they get up when her stomach growled loudly into the room.

Their lips stilled against another and then his chuckle broke them apart. “Hungry?”

“Can you blame me?” she asked, nudging her nose against his. “Someone thought I needed to work up an appetite.”

“I wish I could say I was sorry, but...” his words trailed off as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes wandering down between them to where her breasts were against his chest, making her shake her head. Men. He leaned up and gave her one last light kiss. “We do need to get you some food.”

In one fluid movement he sat them both up, and her hair fell over her shoulders. Lifting a hand, she attempted to comb through the many tangles. She frowned at the sight she must be.

He must have noticed her preoccupation because he tucked some of her hair behind her ear and suggested, “Shower?”

She fought back a smile and raised a brow. “Shower or shower _s_?”

“The sooner we finish the sooner we can have breakfast.”

There was a glint in his eyes, one that told her a tandem shower would probably be longer than any single shower could. “Do you think you can behave?”

He made a face as if she insulted him. “Absolutely. I have some self-control.”

She hummed. Not believing a word he said. “We’ll see about that.’’

The shower turned out, had been well-behaved. Mostly. She let him wash her hair which had been more intimate than she thought it would be. After almost twenty years of marriage to Jake, little things like that they were few and far between and when they happened were more familiar. With Marcus, it was new and gave her that renewed spark she hadn’t felt in a long long time. Everything with Marcus seemed to be like that. And so when he grabbed the soap and insisted he washed _all_ of her well… who was she to argue?

Washed, untangled, and dressed, she looked over to see Marcus step back into his room and decided that Marcus Kane in a tee-shirt and shorts with sunglasses pushed up on his head was in her top five favorite things. Right along with chocolate-dipped strawberries, coffee, Cannon Beach in Oregon at sunset, and a good book on a rainy day. Where in the world had the neatly dressed, crisp button-up and slacks Marcus Kane gone? Of course, that had been a while ago. Handsome as he was then, she definitely preferred this relaxed version of him now.

“Did I by chance mention how much I love the dress?”

She glanced down at herself, feeling heat creep into her cheeks regardless of the fact that she just spent most of the morning with him without wearing a thing. “You didn’t but I assumed,” she said, and then a thought struck her. “Who’s downstairs?”

“Today?” He stepped a foot into a Nike. He was the type who didn't care to untie, it seemed. “Echo, Anya, and a few of the cooks. Why?”

She frowned. “I’m a little overdressed don’t you think?”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “And?”

“Don’t give me that look,” she told him noting the smugness in his eyes. Yes, he had a date. Yes, he got laid. But she was meeting some of these people and felt a little too on display as she was. The dress was for their date, for him... “You know what.”

“They won’t say anything but if you’re that worried about it, I’ll be right back.” When he returned from his closet he was holding a red flannel shirt in his hand. “Will this make it better?”

She shrugged it on, and yes, that was better. “Much, thank you.”

They made their way downstairs and down a short hall which brought them to two doors. One straight ahead would lead them outside, and a door to the right took them inside the pub. At some point on their way down, he took her hand and they threaded their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world and she didn’t find herself minding sticking close.

He took her to a booth in the back of the restaurant side near the kitchen and were spotted by a tall, brunette who gave them both a once over before stating, “Oh, wow this is new.”

Instead of them having a seat, Marcus took them over to the bar. “Echo, this is Abby. Abby, this is my day bartender, Echo. Roan is her husband.”

“Oh, hello.”

The young woman held out her hand, never really dropping her appraising gaze. “Nice to meet you.”

“We were just going to have some breakfast,” Marcus told her, stepping on the foot rail along the bottom of the bar and leaning over the counter grabbing something from the other side.

Echo shrugged. “You own the place, do what you want.”

Handing the black looking book to her, she realized it was a menu, and they walked back over to the table. She didn’t need long to decide. One look at the French Toast and she was sold. Marcus took the menu and went into the kitchens giving them their order himself instead of asking Anya, who was the breakfast waitress and introduced her to.

When he returned about ten minutes later, it was with two cups of coffee in his hand, and he slid one over to her. “You can have this, I’m assuming?”

“You assume correct,” she replied with a grateful sigh. “Gradually I’ll cut back but going cold-turkey can be even worse for women to do.” Reaching over to the small bowl in the middle of the table, she took three creamers from it.

He nodded while watching her doctor up her coffee. His stayed black, she noted. “It’s been a long while since I’ve been through this.”

She smiled. “You and me both.”

He reached out his hand, and she slipped hers into it. “You mentioned you saw a doctor already…”

“I have. I’ll be seeing Diana.”

“Diana…” he trailed off and his head tilted sideways slightly, but then his eyes widened, and he said, “Oh, that’s right, _our_ Diana.” They shared a smile. Diana had come with her one night after work to meet Jake and from then on Diana proclaimed Marcus’ pub the place to be. She became a regular for a long while until Mr. Cosmobiologist happened. “I forgot she dealt with pregnancies.”

Taking a spoon from the wrapped silverware, she gave her coffee a good stir. “She does and is very insistent I see no one else.”

“Are you comfortable with that?”

She let out a light laugh. “I am. She's my dear friend, and I love her. Honestly, I wouldn't have anyone else.”

Their food came then surprising her and he smiled telling her he may have had their order pushed to the front. Her plate was huge, and she dug into it with more enthusiasm than was probably lady-like.

“When’s your next appointment?” he asked, scooping up a bite of his hash browns covered in far too much ketchup for her liking.

“On the second,” she replied, setting down her fork to take a drink of the large orange juice that just happened to show up with their food. Sneaky. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me.”

“I’d love to. How did your first appointment go?” His eyes held hers a moment with an uncertain hesitancy before adding, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Of course, I don't.”

For the next little while, they talked about her appointment. How she realized she might be pregnant and how quickly she got into Diana once she took the test. Their tones were hushed, in part because having someone overhear them was not the pregnancy announcement she’d prefer but also because she wasn’t ready for anyone to know but her and Marcus for the time being.

She lost herself in her food while they talked. Before she knew it over half of the food on her plate was gone before his. She was so hungry she felt like she could eat hers and his. And the portions weren’t small. Two large pieces of French toast, scrambled eggs, and four thick slices of bacon which she poured the maple syrup on all of it. Maybe she should have stuck with that gym membership after all?

His chuckle across the table had her looking over at him. “How is it?”

She laughed through another bite of her toast, realizing it probably seemed like a lot of food for her but she didn't care. It was nearly noon. Holding a hand up to her mouth, she replied, “Very good.”

He took a sip of his coffee, then observed, “So you’re tired but you’re not sick?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t had any nausea yet. And don’t say a word,” she said and pointed her fork at him. “You’ll jinx it.”

He smiled. “I wouldn't dare. But that’s it so far?”

“Well…” Other than her breasts hating her, she thought wryly. “More less.” He gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes. “I’ve been a little sore.”

“Sore?”

It was her turn to give him a look and then it was as though a light bulb went off over his head. He smiled, his eyes flicking down to her chest and back up. Their time in the shower and his through washing of her body no doubt coming back to him. “Oops.”

She hummed a sound of disbelief through a bite of French toast. He didn't look the least bit sorry at all.

* * *

A little later after breakfast, he drove them up I-5 towards her home through the light drizzle that had been coming down steadily since they left. But there was a promise of sunshine out on the horizon that was supposed to last the weekend and he was looking forward to it. Or he had been. Thoughts of Pikes Place Market and a trip out to Harbor Island to check on his boat were all a blur in the back of his mind behind the one thing that rehashed over and over.

He was going to be a father... again.

After all this time, he truly thought Octavia and Bellamy would be it. Even though Bellamy wasn’t biologically his, he still considered him _his_ son. He’d been with him since he was three-years-old. Took care of him most of the time while his mother was out doing whatever it was she did because he was convinced now that those long periods of time when she would run errands were not exactly what they seemed.

Glancing over at Abby, he couldn’t help but wonder how much different this time would be. Aurora's pregnancy with Octavia had been rough not only on her but on him. What he could remember of the details, what stuck the most was how miserable she had been, and not physically but emotionally. She hadn’t been thrilled to be pregnant and less so as the time went on. Even the things he would have thought she’d be exuberant to experience as a mother she barely tolerated. The little kicks, the hiccups that made her belly bounce…and God forbid he asked to feel his daughter’s movements.

Call him crazy, but he found himself looking forward to this baby with Abby. The feeling that overtook him when she told him about how shocked she was when she found out and then how after her appointment the shock slowly lessened and became something akin to hope, damn near brought tears to his eyes. And he wasn’t a man who cried often.  

In that moment with Abby, just after she told him, looking down into her searching eyes he found he wasn’t scared or uncertain. Being with Abby, bringing this child of theirs into the world, and finding their way through it together… whatever life brought to them he was ready for.

His lips pulled up thinking of their road ahead and what this meant not only for them but also for their grown children. One thing was for sure, he expected to get never-ending amounts of hell from his son. In jest, mostly, after having been lectured on being smart and using precautions when Bellamy had hit that age. He was sure his son would never let it go. Octavia would be thrilled. At least, he hoped.

And then there was his mother… Shaking his head, he attempted to push the conversation completely from his mind. That conversation could hold off for a while yet, say sometime around when the child graduated college. She’d nearly went mad when he told her of his divorce. He wasn’t a betting man, but he would bet both his businesses she spent every single morning in church from the day he told her until the day his divorce was finalized lighting candles.

To say he was not looking forward to telling his mother would be putting it lightly.

Needing something else other to think about then brooding on his difficult mother, he looked over at Abby and asked, “Have you told Clarke?”

It was a question out of the blue pulling her from her own thoughts and making her look up at him wide-eyed.

“No, I haven't.” Then with a soft sigh, she added, “That's another thing we should probably talk about. I’d like to wait to tell the kids or anyone besides us for a little while yet.” He took his eyes from the road and looked over at her for a moment. Her head tilted back on the headrest as she explained, “There’s still a risk of miscarriage and it drops more significantly after twelve weeks. If something were to happen, I wouldn't want to get anyone's hopes up.”

He frowned at how almost sad she sounded, and it made him wonder if she really believed she would lose the baby. “That's perfectly reasonable. Whenever you’re ready,” he told her and reaching for her hand closed his around hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But hey, nothing's going to happen.”

She smiled softly, but her only response was to squeeze her hand around his. “I have told her about us, though.”

A warmth spread through his chest at the word _us._ “And?”

“She’s okay with it.” Her other hand fell over the top of his, her fingers sliding between his fingers in a light caress. “She remembers you making drinks for her when she was little.”

He smiled picturing the little blonde girl who had to sit on her knees on the stool to reach the bar and her _drink_. “I remember that. She loved them.”

She angled her body toward him in her seat. Her eyes set on him, narrowing perceptively. “Should we have a parenting talk about that?”

He laughed. Maybe it wasn't the most appropriate thing to do to give a little girl a pretend mixed drink, but he didn't see any real harm. Now if Clarke would have turned out to be an alcoholic well, that'd be different.  

“Don’t you worry,” he began lifting her hand and kissing that back of it. “We have plenty of time for that conversation. But I promise, no drinks for this one until they graduate to a real cup. Though, I remember stories of my mother using whiskey to get me to sleep when I was young.”

She shook her head, letting out a soft chuckle. “That explains so much about you.”

He grinned. “What are you going to do today?”

“Later I have to finish up my test, but I should run to the farmers market if it clears up, and to the grocery store.”

“Do you want some company?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he enjoyed getting to spend all this time with her and if it meant a trip to the grocery store to get a bit more he’d jump on it. “We could go together? Octavia’s going to be with her friends all day, and Bellamy went off somewhere with the girl he hopes will be his girlfriend. That is unless you want some time to yourself…”

“No, company sounds great. I won’t have to drive.”

Chuckling, he said, “I will happily be your chauffeur.”

“You say that now but wait until I take you to my Costco on a Saturday.”

“I think I can handle it.”

The rest of the drive was spent chatting about Clarke, about her new job and frustrating coworkers. How Abby hoped when the summer was over Clarke would stop working and focus on school, which he agreed to a certain extent. He didn’t really see anything wrong with working and gaining that experience as long as it didn’t take her away from her studies, but it really wasn't his place to say.

Before he knew it, they were pulling up to her two-story home. The one she shared with Jake, that he had been to a handful of times over the years for summer BBQ’s and the occasional Seahawks game. Jake had been the one to come to the pub more over the course of their friendship. He gazed over at the woman in the passenger seat and deep down he knew the reason for it.

“Do you want me to wait?” he asked, pulling into the driveway and coming to a stop next to a blue Ford Fusion. He guessed was Clarke’s because the car Abby drove a similar SUV to his.

“No, don’t be silly,” she told him. “Come in and say hello to Clarke. I still need to change before we go.”

He gave a nod and turning off the car followed her along the path and inside.

She stepped inside and placing her hand on his arm, removed her heels with he could only describe as a relieved sigh that made him chuckle softly. “Clarke, honey, are you home?” she called out.

There was a moment where all was quiet and then just as they stepped into the living room he saw a much more mature Clarke than he remembered walking down the stairs toward them.

She smiled seeing them both. “Hey, just for the moment. I’m about to head to work.”

“Clarke, you remember Marcus.”

“Yeah, hi.” Clarke reached out her hand and he took it. Her smile reminding him of her mother.  

“Hello, you’ve grown up since I last saw you last,” he told her.

“Yeah, I think I was twelve maybe?” She looked from her mother then back to him stuffing her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. “Still make those cherry Cokes and cheeseburgers?”

He laughed. “For you, absolutely.”

“I’ll have to stop in with Mom and have another sometime.”

“You’re welcome any time,” he said, relieved how at ease she was with him being in her mother’s life now.

“It was good seeing you. I need to go finish getting ready for work.” Her eyes slid over to her mother and reaching up with her fingers, she grasped the shoulder of her shirt, _his_ shirt and gave it a little tug. “Nice shirt, Mom.”

He pressed his lips together watching as Abby turned a lovely shade of red, and muttered, “Thank you, honey.” Turning to him, she waited until Clarke was gone then said, “Let me go up and change and then we can go.”

“All right,” he said, then watched as she climbed the stairs after her daughter.

Abby’s home was neat and very clean. White walls with cream-colored frames and matching furniture. Soft blues and gray accents and pictures in black frames. He crossed the room and peeked out one of the two French doors that led to the backyard. Outside there was a deck and a yard filled with flowers and a small garden. All of it so very Abby. It was with a twinge of sadness he noted how there was very little of Jake. Just how hard his death had been on her? After Aurora left, he wanted nothing around to remember her. The betrayal and pain too deep. He supposed losing someone to death might have a similar effect, though not quite everything was gone. There were still family pictures of them on the mantle, and he was sure if he looked around enough he’d find subtle reminders here and there.

Making his way back into the living room, he sat down on the couch. Looking around the room he imagined baby toys and furniture scattered amongst the surroundings, and wondered if this was where their child would spend most of their time or would they share the time between his apartment too? Which led to thoughts of where would they be in the next seven months? He knew where he’d like them to be. But it seemed foolish to assume she could be as deep in this as he. It’d only been a little over a year since she lost Jake. And he was sure he had been pining for her for longer than she.

 _You shouldn't have been pining in the first place,_ his mind chastised him.

Soon, her soft voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “Ready?”

He looked up, and his mouth dropped open slightly. Even in jeans and a tee shirt, she was beautiful. She had gone and done something with her hair because it fell down straight around her shoulders and her back. Her brows rose in a silent question. Getting to his feet, he shook himself from his stupor and said, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

On Thursday afternoon Abby sat in her office grading the last of her midterms while waiting for the last hour of her “office hours” to go by so she could finally go home. If it weren’t for Jackson, she would have fallen asleep at her desk an hour ago. She missed her energy. She missed being able to get things done without wanting to collapse from sheer exhaustion.

The night before she spent over an hour on the phone with Diana who assured her after a few more weeks she’d feel more like herself again. Reasonably, as a doctor herself, she knew this. But it felt like getting through those weeks would be like pushing herself through a mud pit. And she had to complain to someone.

Also, much to her annoyance, that morning she’d walked into the kitchen to find Clarke making breakfast and the smell of sausage cooking had her covering her mouth and turning on her heel back upstairs. She never threw up, but she spent the next fifteen minutes sitting on her bathroom floor taking deep breaths and praying this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

She left for work that morning without any breakfast, not willing to risk another bout of nausea, but now regretting not grabbing a something to take with her. One of Clarke’s granola bars or something.

Just a little after noon, she was starting to feel slightly light-headed. With a sigh, she put her elbows on her desk and let her head fall into her hands. Closing her eyes, she swallowed, hating the dizziness almost as much as nausea. Once it passed she’d go grab an apple or maybe some crackers from the cafeteria.

“Four more weeks…” she whispered allowing herself to be slightly optimistic that once she hit her second trimester she might finally start to feel like herself again.

“Abby are you all right?”

She looked up and found Jackson standing in front of her desk. His eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a little dizzy. That’s what I get for not eating this morning.” She tried to smile but was sure it came out of more of a grimace.

He eyed her, looking unconvinced like he suspected something going on with her. After covering her class last week to see the Diana, suffering through her short temper this afternoon, and her almost falling asleep at her desk, she would be disappointed in him for not suspecting something. Even if it were her being premenstrual.

“Do you want me to go grab you something?” he asked.

Her shoulders dropped, and she shook her head. “No, thank you, Jackson, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? You’re looking a little pale.”

Was she? Great. Now she would feel like she had the words pregnant and hormonal written on her forehead. Another wave of dizziness washed over her, had her closing her eyes. She really should get something to eat before she passed out.

“Do the vending machines have crackers?”

Jackson’s look had been thoughtful a moment before he replied, “Crackers and cheese and animal crackers, I think?”

She made a face. “Anything but those. Here,” Reaching down, she opened her bottom desk drawer and took out her purse. She handed him a five-dollar bill and said, “Grab me something remotely healthy.”

“You’ve got it.”

Sitting back in her chair, she let out a sigh. She was going to have to start taking better care of herself because contrary to how she was feeling before, her child wasn’t going to make this easy on her. Dropping her hand, she placed it low on her belly. She’d been so careful to let herself have only so much hope, to get too attached, afraid that the moment she did something would happen. But as the days went on it was becoming harder and harder to do. It was almost as if this baby was bound and determined to not be ignored by her.

She let herself smile at that and with a sigh, whispered, “Just be nice to mommy. Okay, kiddo?”

Just then her phone rang pulling her away. There weren’t many people who called her cell phone. The school occasionally, her parents when they weren’t vacationing, Clarke, Diana, and now Marcus.

She smiled seeing his name, and leaned forward long enough to grab her phone, then swiped the screen.

“Hey, you,” she answered her tone a lot softer than it’d been to anyone that day.

“Hey, how was the test?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Some of them even passed.” She paused to listen to his light chuckle, and let out a yawn. “How’s work?

“A lot quieter now that the games are over.”

She leaned her head back on her chair and closed her eyes, picturing him in a reasonably filled bar or no, maybe at his desk surrounded by his sticky notes. The corners of her mouth lifted up. “Aw, well maybe you’ll be able to do some relaxing?”

“There's always a possibility, but speaking of, I was wondering if I could talk you into dinner tomorrow night?”

Her eyes opened. “Dinner?”

“Here at my place. I thought I’d make you something.”

She found herself smiling and leaning into the phone and good God, she was ridiculous. “I could be persuaded,” she replied trying to make herself sound casual.

“If I said there’d be some kind of strawberry dessert?”

Damn, he was starting to know her weaknesses.

“You should have led with that,” she told him making him chuckle, and she bit her lip imagining that smile she hadn’t seen in days. “Of course, I want to have dinner with you. What time?

“Considering how early your bedtime is these days, say five?”

How sad but true that was. As if on cue she yawned again. “I’ll be there.”

He laughed, probably because of the yawn. The jackass. But then his voice was back and asking, “Do you want me to pick you up?” making her feel slightly guilty for cursing the father of her child.

“I can drive.”

“All right,” his voice sounded skeptical, and she bristled. She was pregnant not incapacitated. Just because she was a little exhausted… she rolled her eyes. “Meanwhile, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

His voice was so soft, so infuriatingly gentle that she regretted her annoyance towards him even if it was all in her mind. “I’m feeling fine. Maybe a little short-tempered and tired but it could be worse.”

“There’s nothing I can get for you?”

His arms around her and a glass of wine would be good but seeing as though one she couldn’t have either at the moment, she sighed. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but there really isn’t. I just need a bath and to go to bed.”

“Both of which I have and would be happy to share.”

Hmm... Tempting as that was she couldn’t. She made dinner plans with Clarke and with her mood the way it was, she’d rather spare him. “Tomorrow,” she promised.

“Does that mean I get to keep you after dinner?” His voice had gone all low and deep and she crossed her legs feeling the beginnings of that familiar ache that accompanied that bedroom voice of his. He really shouldn't have this much of an effect on her, but she chalked it up to hormones and the last time they were together being stuck in her mind the last few days.

“Possibly. If I get these papers graded.”

He hummed softly. They both knew she would. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

“All right, I’ll stop bugging you then. But if you need anything…”

“I know just who to call,” she interrupted because she did and would.

After saying their goodbyes, it wasn’t long before Jackson returned. And not from the vending machines, but from the cafeteria with a fruit cup, crackers, and apple juice. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes sting, but she shook her head and cleared her throat. She was _not_ going to cry over her TA bringing her snacks.

“Thank you, Jackson.”

* * *

There were probably many more productive things Marcus could be doing on a weekday night but laying on the couch watching the Travel Channel seemed to the only thing he felt inclined to do. Not much of a casual TV watcher, he found he was startlingly immersed by the bald man traveling around the world and eating some of the most god-awful shite. As nasty as some of it was, he couldn’t stop watching and it wasn’t until about six episodes into the thick of it when his daughter’s voice startled him from the program.

“Hey, Dad,” she said as she plopped down into the smaller sofa across the room. “Whatcha watching?”

He thought for a moment. His brow creasing as he tried remembering the name of it. Something to do with bizarre… Bizarre Foods? Was it really that simple? Jesus, had he even been paying attention? “I’m not sure…” he replied, giving a slight shrug. “Some food travel show.”

“Where’s Abby?”

He looked over at her then. She had her phone held up in her hands, but her gaze was directed at him with too innocent of an expression. “She’s at home,” he told her. “She has papers to grade tonight, but she’s coming over tomorrow for dinner and probably staying.”

“She your girlfriend?” came her next question and his eye flicked once again from the TV to his daughter.

He expected these sort of questions after the other night, and in all fairness, he probably should have had a conversation with Octavia about Abby. Though not knowing exactly where he and Abby were relationship-wise, he had put it off until he had a chance to talk to her.

“Would you mind if she were?”

With a half-hearted shrug, she replied, “Nah, you need someone other than me and Bell. And she seems nice.”

A smile pulled at the edges of his lips. “She’s very nice.”

“Now that’s I’ve seen her I can remember her a little bit, but I remember your friend Jake more.”

That was pretty understandable. Jake had been at the bar far more often than Abby. And his conversations with his friend often involved how hectic her schedule had been and how sometimes even he didn’t see his wife for days with their conflicting schedules.

“Well, Abby was a doctor for a long time before she was a teacher and worked quite a bit. She couldn’t come over quite as much as Jake.”

Octavia’s head fell to the side. “What kind of doctor?”

“Family practitioner.” The answer came from him easily, and he mentally congratulated himself for remembering a detail from her former life.

“Have you always liked her?”

He turned his head towards her, eyes narrowing, observing his sixteen-year-old. “You're more perceptive than I give you credit for.”

“Come on, you guys were friends all those years,” she began, bringing up both hands doing the air quotes on the word friends making him sigh as she went on, “and then fell in bed as soon as she’s single? There was something there.”

He opened his mouth to argue they hadn’t fallen in bed together just as soon as she was single, but when he thought about it, they had. As soon as she was ready, anyway.

Still, he defended her and him, but mostly her. “She lost her husband, Octavia, and it’d been a year before I saw her after that. You need to stop watching so much reality TV,” he grumbled.

“Actually, it was Luna who pointed it out,” she told him, making him do a double-take.

He sighed. “Don’t you and your friends have better things to do than talk about me?”

“Lately? Not really.” She made a face. “But really, it’s not as though you both aren’t obvious. Everyone can see it in the way you look at her. You definitely didn't look at CeCe like…”

Raising a hand, he rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. “I wish you and your brother would let go of the CeCe thing. She and I were never together.”

“She sure seemed to think so,” Octavia quipped, with a bit of an edge to her tone. “She stayed the night that one time…”

“And I stayed on the couch if you can recall,” he defended hating everything about that night and how he regretted accepting her offer to have a drink and talk. By then he should have known her motives would never have been so innocent.

“Does she still text you?”

“No, thankfully.”

“How long’s it been?”

“A few weeks.” And he’d ignored them just as he’d done for the last five months or however the hell long it had been since he’d told her he wanted nothing to do with her romantically or otherwise. More than done with the conversation, he took the remote from beside him and began flipping through the channels. “Can we talk about something else? What do you want for dinner?”

Her head fell back, and she groaned in all of her teenage exasperation. “Look, I'm just saying I can see the difference between the two, and Abby hasn’t been around as long as CeCe.”

“That’s because Abby and I were friends before, _real_ friends,” he said emphasizing the real because the difference between what he had with Abby and what went on with CeCe was completely different. “But to answer your first question, yes, I've cared about Abby for a long time, but it’s different now.”

“You mean now you can love her without feeling like an asshole.”

He stared at Octavia, ignoring how his chest tightened at the word love attempting to focus more on the asshole bit. “You know, I’m thinking maybe your brother had a point with the swearing.”

She looked away from him and back at her phone where she began to type. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Turning his gaze back to the television, he let out an aggravated breath through his nose. Though what was he going to do, deny it? That’d only make him a liar.

“Well since it's just us can we order pizza?”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling the ache of hunger at the mention of food. “But don’t get that meat lovers again. That was just too much last time. Get us that Pacific Veggie.”

“Hells yeah...” With that, his daughter launched herself off the couch and into a jog across the room into the kitchen where they kept Rocco’s menu clipped to the fridge.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, swiping the screen to see a message from Abby. There was a picture and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Octavia was still in the kitchen before opening it right away. She was, and so he tapped her name and nearly groaned aloud at the image of her legs in the tub surrounded by bubbles with a text underneath that said, _Finally got that bath_.

As much as he loved her legs, he wanted something else. He found he was a greedy man when it came to Abigail Griffin. Tapping on the message bar, he brought up the keyboard and typed, _Glad to hear it. Now you can relax. And while the view is superb, flip that camera around and give me a shot of the beautiful face of the woman in the bath._

It took her a moment to respond and when she did it made him scoff.

_I look so tired, though._

_I’ve seen you tired and even then you were still the most beautiful woman in the room._

When she didn’t respond for a minute, he thought he’d lost out on the picture. But when he heard the tale-tale whoosh sound of an incoming message, a revenant, _Jesus Christ_ , fell from his lips.

She had her hair piled on the top of her head in one of those messy buns, though some of it fell around her face. Her face was free from makeup and smiling softly for him. He saved the picture to his phone and smiled.

He finally got that picture of her and it was all his.

* * *

Rain poured down from the dark sky the following late afternoon, as she drove from her home back into downtown. Just after four, she was grateful for how light traffic was. A student of hers had come to her and stayed thirty minutes past the time she usually left to talk about his grades and his classes going forward that fall. Her empathy for his failing grades only went on for so long. She was tired and hungry and annoyed from her chat earlier with the dean. Eventually, she told the young man he would have to step it up or consider that maybe going into medicine wasn’t the right field for him. It was harsh. But if he didn’t start taking his classes seriously now the chances of him getting into even a half decent medical school were slim to none.

With his ultimate departure, she turned off the lights, grabbed her purse and the bag she had packed to take with her to Marcus’ and locked up. As she had walked out to her car, she let out a sigh thinking of earlier that morning and her daughter’s face when she told Clarke she wouldn’t be coming home that night.

Clarke had looked at her over her cup of coffee, and said, “Oh, okay.” Her daughter sounded so blase about her little sleepover that next words from her mouth brought her up short. “You guys got pretty serious pretty fast.”

She had sipped her own coffee fought against the uncertainty that started to bloom in her chest. Was it fast? Abby rolled her eyes at herself. _You’re only carrying his child…_

Baby aside, she supposed it was fast. If she wanted to get technical it’d been a week since she’d gone to the pub. She could see where Clarke or anyone else would think she and Marcus were rushing into a relationship.

She let out a long sigh into the quiet of her car. This, along with her chat earlier in the afternoon with the dean had her anxiety on high, and only made her second guess what she and Marcus were doing.

They were having a baby after all. Were they setting themselves up for something lasting by rushing into a relationship? It was a fair question, one she had planned on bringing up with him sometime during dinner.

Parking in back, she made her way around to the front of the building and climbed the steps that took her up to his apartment. She knocked, but only waited a handful of seconds before the door opened and he was there smiling at her.

“Hey,” he said, in welcome.

She took a step inside, whispered her own hello and tilted her head up as he dipped his head to kiss her lightly. She closed her eyes and hummed a happy hum of contentment. Her mind may have thought everything was happening fast, but her heart thought they were just fine.

When he drew away he held out his hand and she smiled handing him the small tote with her clothes. His lips lifted into a knowing smirk, before he said, “I do get to keep you,” and she shook her head. He was hopeless.

Telling her he’d be right back, left with her bag and she put her purse on the entryway table next to another that looked very much like it belonged to Octavia. It was purple and black striped and covered with different patches that displayed names of what she could only assume were rock bands, maybe?

His apartment smelled amazing. Like garlic and rosemary.

Soon he was back gesturing to her with a tilt of his head toward the kitchen and asking, “How was your day?”

She followed him inside and took a seat at the kitchen island. There was baked garlic bread on the counter and a deep pan of pasta boiling on the stove and judging by the smell something else baking in the oven as well.

She realized she hadn’t answered his question and felt her cheeks heat. “Sorry I was distracted by the food. My day was irritating.”

He chuckled and must have taken pity on her because he went and got a small plate and put a couple pieces of bread on it for her. “Oh, how so?” he asked setting the plate in front of her.

God, she loved him.

No, _liked_. She liked him. Maybe she would go as far as adored. Love wasn’t… because she wasn’t…

Pulling herself from her spiraling thoughts, she took a piece of bread and before taking a bite explained, “I’ve been thinking about my fall classes a lot lately…” She picked off an edge of bread and popped it into her mouth and while she chewed he got her a glass of water and set it down in front of her.

“Understandably,” he said.

Once she swallowed, she told him, “I have some really full days that are going to be hard on me towards the end. So, I went and asked today to see about making one of the classes a little later in the afternoon instead of so early the morning...” She ate another bite of bread. A lot hungrier than she thought.

“Mmmhm.”

She let out a soft snort recalling the director's tone. “Well, I can kiss that idea goodbye unless I get another professor to trade with me.”

“What’s the schedule like?”

“My first class is at eight in the morning on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with another class at one and a lab at three.”

He made a face, and she could tell he was about as impressed with her schedule as she was. “That’s a long day.”

“You’re telling me.” She broke off a bigger chunk of bread. This time apart of the middle with all the butter and garlic salt and… _Mmmm_. So good.

“Isn’t there anyone that would be willing to trade with you?” he asked, taking a bite of his own piece of bread.

She washed down the bite she took, then setting her glass down said, “There’s only one other I could ask which is, Lorelei Tsing, but you could say we don't really get along.”

He blinked at her looking baffled. “Why?”

With her eyes on her bread, she said, “Because I may have called her a disgrace to the medical profession who has no right teaching kids about medicine.”

“Straightforward and blunt, just like you. I love it.” He chuckled, then turned and went to check on the pasta. “When did this happen?”

“Oh, about five years ago.”

“Do I want to know this story?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and his look was so weary and adorable looking like she was bigger and scarier than she really was.

With a soft laugh, she asked, “Have you ever heard of Dr. Cage Wallace in Oregon?”

He looked thoughtful a second before he asked, “Should I?”

She shook her head. “He was in the news a while back. He’s a cellular researcher that went off the deep end a few years ago after he claimed to have cloned three human embryos. He had his license taken from him for unethical practices and hasn't been heard from since. My colleague, Professor Tsing worships the ground he walks on. I understand why people believe the science to be fascinating, but she has no right thrusting it and her beliefs on these kids. I finally had enough of my them coming to me asking about it my opinions on the morality of it all that I went to the dean and put a stop to it.”

“I bet that went over well.”

She hummed while finishing off the last of her bread then sucking the butter off of her thumb, said, “She confronted me about it and that’s when I told her how I felt. We haven’t spoken since.”

“Damn.”

“Now you tell me what you think the chances I'll have if I ask her to trade with me?

He raised his glass to his lips, and before taking a slip, replied, “You're pretty screwed.”

She sighed then mumbled, “And not in the good way.”

Tossing a towel down on the counter, she watched him walk around the kitchen island and over to her. Her eyes held his, they had this look in his eyes that had her lips pulling into a smile. As he reached her she turned toward him and opened her legs, so he could step in between. He leaned down, and she tipped her head back.

Their noses brushed together as he told her, “We could make it in the good way.”

She bit her lip, feeling the buildup of desire for him burning low in her belly. “Oh yeah?”

But just as her eyes fluttered closed and his lips brushed over hers, the sound of the front door opening had them looking over to see Bellamy had come home.

“Later,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her quickly. “Hey.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened. “Oh, right, your date was tonight. Sorry.”

“Bellamy, this is-” Marcus started to introduce.

But Bellamy stepped into the kitchen and smiling, said, “Abby. I remember you now. Clarke's mom.”

“That's right.” She smiled at the mention of Clarke, and also happy to hear he remembered them both. “It’s nice seeing you again. You’ve gotten tall like your dad.”

Bellamy smiled and shared a look with Marcus, who also had his own proud smile. “Thanks, sorry I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll go downstairs and hang out with the guys.”

“Bellamy, do you want to have dinner with us?” she asked because she hated the idea of having him stay downstairs when this was his home.

“No, I'm fine. There's a game downstairs I wanted to watch. Thank you, though.” He backed up, and pat Marcus on the shoulder before saying, “You guys have a good night.”

Abby watched Bellamy leave feeling slightly less guilty he was leaving because of her. Maybe one of these nights they could all have a dinner together sometime before she and Marcus told them about their new sibling. How were they going to react to the news? She thought of her parents and what she would say at Clarke’s age if they told her they were having another child.

But then again, her parents were married and had been for nearly thirty years. What an example she and Marcus were setting for them.

Marcus must have been busy while she was daydreaming because she came over to her with a bite of pasta. “Here, try this.”

He blew on it, and carefully she took a bite. She hummed, loving the flavors he used. “It’s good,” she told him.

He smiled and turned to make them plates, and she watched and listened while he told her about the recipe he got from a cooking show he watched a while back and how he hoped he could make it for someone who would appreciate it as much as he. He ran a hand through his hair as he stopped for a moment to tell her about how he couldn’t cook for a long time and how he had to learn when he got Octavia and Bellamy back.

Her thoughts turned from their problems to him. How was he still single? He was such a good father and a good man. Handsome, and had arms for days as Clarke would say. She was glad he was single. Was being the operative word, she thought smugly.

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to get to her feet and close the distance between them, but he didn’t seem to mind because when she reached up and pulled him down to her he met her lips in a kiss that stole the breath from her.

He moaned into her mouth, and before she knew it, she was being lifted into the air. Chest against chest he walked them back until he could put her on the counter.

“Is anyone else coming back to surprise us?” she asked, as he began to trail kisses down her neck.

“Shouldn't be for a while,” he murmured. “Octavia’s at the movies with friends and Bellamy won't be back up for a while. Not until after we go to bed.”

“We should probably eat.”

His hands came up and began unbuttoning her shirt. “That we should,” he said right before dropping his head down and kissing the tops of her breasts.

On second thought… “Or maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

“I’m all right with that, too,” he told her then took hold of her legs once again and pulled her towards him.

“You are not carrying me,” she said against his lips.

But he was already pulling her off the counter and making his way out of the kitchen. “Too late.”

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. “What about the food?”

“We can reheat it. There’s something else I want to eat first.”

She groaned, feeling heat flare up her neck, in her cheeks. Did he really just say that? Making his way into his room, he kicked the door closed behind them then lowered them down on the bed.

“We should really have a bit more control than this, Marcus,” she said sounding more breathless than she should be then moaned threading her fingers into his hair as he nipped at skin below her earlobe.

His voice was just as breathless and husky in his reply, “Should we?”

“We should,” she said, feeling that all familiar ache began to build. He moved away from her enough to move his hands down to remove her pants but then finding that they had no buttons or zippers hooked his fingers around the top pulled them and her underwear down and moving to follow. He kneeled on the floor removing her shoes and she felt her heart pound in her chest. God, when he really wanted something… She gasped feeling his hands part her legs. Her breath caught in her chest. The anticipation about to kill her. “We’re not hormone-driven teenagers.”

He chuckled, and she had to bite her lip to keep quiet feeling his lips kiss the inside of her thigh. “I’ll agree with the teenager part. Now if you don’t mind...”

His voice trailed off and lowering his head began to kiss his way higher and higher and just when she thought she might die if he didn’t get _there_ soon his tongue came out and brushed over her clit.

Her eyes closed, and her hands reached down and threaded into his hair, gripping on for dear life. “Oh God… you are a _terrible_ influence.”


	9. Chapter 9

Abby let out a frustrated sigh as she stared at herself in the mirror.  At ten weeks her pants were sung but there had been still some give. At eleven weeks she could button them, but by the end of the day, was left with marks on her skin. At twelve weeks though, twelve weeks was when her belly decided it was ready to “pop” as they say. And there was no amount of sucking it in or lying down on the bed she could do. If they had a button or a clasp, it wasn’t happening. The time had come to go shopping, but for now, she was going to have to wear some leggings and a loose-fitting top.

Their little secret wasn't going to be a secret much longer, not as far as her waist was concerned. Which was okay, because now that she had made it to twelve weeks she felt more confident sharing the news with everyone. She just wanted to get past her finals first. Then, after Friday, she and Marcus could figure out how they would tell the kids and then she could stop worrying about how she looked all the time.

From the bathroom, she heard her phone ring in her room and quickly arranged her shirt before making her way over to it. She picked it up smiling. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” came Marcus’ voice. “How are you?”

“Good, getting dressed.” She glanced over at the clock beside her bed. It was just after nine. “You’re calling earlier than usual.”

“Well, Indra is here and we’re making some plans for the festival this weekend,” he paused, and she could just make out the sounds of people talking and clatter in the background that was the all too familiar sound of the bar. “How would you feel about going with me Friday and spending the night at Kanasket State Park?”

Now sitting on her bed so she could put on her shoes, she reached up for her phone that she had resting between her shoulder and her ear and took it in her hand, pressing it more firmly to her ear. She needed to make sure she heard him right. “You want me to spend the night where?”

“Enumclaw. It’s about an hour away, up towards Rainier. I usually go the first day and help set up and Indra takes the second.”

“Camping,” she stated, saying what he wasn’t. She had heard him right.

“Just one night. I have an air mattress. It’ll be fun. We can take the kids…” his voice lowered, “and we can use the opportunity while we’re all together to tell them about,” he paused, heard him call out, _Indra, I'll be right there_ then his voice was back and still lowered finished, “tell them about our little secret.”

Her lips pulled up. Little secret. That’s what their child had unofficially been nicknamed over the last few weeks.

Maybe it would be better to tell them all somewhere neutral. Somewhere where they were all doing something together. _As a family,_ her mind finished because that’s what they were becoming.

“That’s true.” She stood and walked into her closet to search for a cardigan or shrug, something to put over her scoop neck top. It was a shame she hadn’t gotten pregnant in autumn or winter. Having a closet full of layers, she could have easily hidden her pregnancy for months. Not that she would have but she could have. “And honestly we need to because I won’t be able to hide it much longer.”

He hummed, and then knowingly whispered, “I noticed.”

“Of course, _you_ have.” She smiled and took a long gray shrug from a hanger. “You see me naked,” she pointed out a bit louder than she intended and prayed Clarke was downstairs.

“Something I don’t take for granted, I assure you, but I don't believe it's that obvious to others yet.”

“That may be, but I can no longer fit into most of my wardrobe.” She shifted the phone from one ear to the other as she put on her shrug. Walking into the bathroom, she examined herself with the extra top as she explained, “It’s like I woke up this morning and my uterus decided to grow substantially overnight. It’s almost painfully obvious now, at least to me and it will be to Clarke soon.”

Her daughter was bright and perceptive. And she hadn’t missed the looks Clarke had given her over the last few weeks. Looks that followed her many headaches, her saying goodnight right after dinner, and running out the door on the mornings Clarke cooked (she had developed a distaste for meat.) Abby hated keeping this from her, for a time it made sense, but now that she was confident this pregnancy was sticking, it was time to tell her. To tell all their kids.

“Well this I can’t wait to see,” he told her making her shake her head.

“I’m sure,” she mused, thinking about the last time they were together. It’d been four days. And it wasn’t like they couldn’t be without the other. They each had lives outside of their relationship, but another wonderful symptom she developed was headaches. And it was these headaches that kept her in bed for the last few days when she wasn’t in class.

“So is that a yes then? You’ll come and ask Clarke? Snuggle with me in the tent so I won’t have to be alone. Help keep me warm?”

She rolled her eyes. She hated the outdoors. Hated the bugs and exposure. She’d gone on one camping trip in high school for a week and hated every minute of it. But now, being faced with just one night on an air mattress that she would share with Marcus… well, it couldn’t be that horrible, could it? “Only you Marcus Kane could make sleeping in a tent sound remotely appealing.”

“I’ll make it worth it,” he promised.

She hummed a sound of agreement because she had no doubt of his word. “I’ll talk to Clarke on the way to class.”

“Okay, I’ll let you get ready. See you soon.”

She smiled thinking about the appointment they were going to later that afternoon. It was why Clarke would be dropping her off on her way to work. So Marcus could pick her up and they could ride together. “All right.”

They said their goodbyes, and she stepped out of her room just as Clarke came out of the bathroom. Abby was startled to notice how red her daughter’s eyes were and how she shifted them quickly away from her.

“Clarke, honey...” She walked over to her. Taking her daughter by the shoulders, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Clarke took a deep breath. She had a look on her face like she was debating whether or not to tell her and then her features softened, as she said, “Finn and I broke up.”

Abby’s brow furrowed. Broke up? Clarke and Finn had been dating for two years. Best friends for all of middle school and high school. She quickly thought back over the last few months. She wasn’t aware of them having any problems. They’d seemed fine when she saw them both together last week. They all went down to The Queen’s Heid with Raven and had lunch with Marcus and Octavia. Had she been that distracted with them all together she hadn’t noticed something? “What? What happened?”

“It was me, Mom.” She brushed the wetness away from her cheeks. “He’s just… He’s going to New York. I’m going to be here. I don’t want to do the long-distance thing.”

New York was a long way away, it was true, and with Clarke staying behind, a long-distance relationship would have its challenges. She couldn’t blame Clarke for wanting to not put that pressure on herself. Not when they would both be starting college and leading different lives. “That’s fair. You both are young and who’s to say once you finish school something could happen then. How’d he take it?”

“He took it better than I thought. Which only goes to show that it really wasn’t that hard of a decision for either of us.”

She smiled, sadly. “I’m sorry though, honey. Break-ups can be tough.”

“I’m okay, though.” She laughed and wiped away another tear, then insisted, “It’s just hard saying goodbye, you know?”

Abby nodded because in that moment her throat tightened and used the opportunity to pull Clarke into a hug. She did know something about saying goodbye. After a few heartbeats, once she got a tight rein on her emotions, she drew away. “You still have the weekend off, right?”

“I do.” Clarke gave a small nod.

“Good because I want you to come with Marcus and I.”

Her head tilted to the side. “Where are you going?”

“There’s this Scottish festival about an hour out of town. The pub sends a food truck and they set up a beer…” she trailed off and searched for the word Marcus had used. Was it a beer garden at a festival? She wondered then gave herself an internal eye roll. Oh, who gave a damn. “Beer garden… thing... Anyway, Octavia and Bellamy are going, and he’s invited us to go camping with them.”

Her brows rose up and her chin dropped. “You? Camping?”

She let out a heavy sigh. Her daughter’s disbelief in her tone not lost on her. “It’s only one night.”

Clarke shrugged. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

She smiled though it was short lived. Her concern for Clarke’s well-being not letting her fully enjoy the idea of them all being together this weekend. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke insisted, now being the one to take _her_ by the shoulders.

“If you need anything…” she began.

“I know, I’ll ask. But don’t worry because I’m going to stay with Raven tonight. We’re going to watch Game of Thrones and eat excessive amounts of junk food.”

The little bit of tension left in her shoulders relaxed. “That makes me feel a little bit better.” Although she could say something about the junk food and her choice in television shows. She tried watching it once. It was a little too high fantasy for her tastes.

“Are you ready to go?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I just need to get my bag.”

Clarke smiled. This time a genuine one. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Back in her room, she made her way over to her bed hoping Clarke had been honest with her about how she felt. That she was okay. But then she knew her daughter, and Clarke wouldn’t make a decision about something important unless she knew in her heart that it was right. She was confident Raven would help her feel better and then this weekend they’d have the festival and hopefully, they could have some time to talk before they had the other talk.

Making her way downstairs, she smiled at Clarke waiting for her. “Why don’t we stop at Stumptown on the way?”

Clarke’s brows rose. “Yeah? Do we have time?”

“Yeah, I could use a fruit smoothie and we can get you that annihilation drink.”

Her daughter laughed. “It’s called an annihilator, Mom.”

“It’s a heart attack in a cup, is what it is,” she joked, feeling better knowing it was that easy to put a smile on her daughter’s face.

With that, they left for downtown. Traded talks of relationships with talks about school and how many credits Clarke wanted to take while balancing her job that she was starting to enjoy.

* * *

Dark, heavy clouds rolled in from the Pacific threatening to spill their contents over the city making Marcus swear as he pulled into a parking lot near the Husky Stadium. The closest parking lot there was to the Health Sciences Center where Abby taught. Thinking of Abby, he should have thought to bring an umbrella for her. Hell, living in Seattle he should have one in his vehicle. But he didn’t. The rain never bothered him. There wasn’t anywhere he couldn’t easily run into and he’d rather have a hood than a damn umbrella. Looking up at the sky, and the gray and hoped it passed without falling.

He was early. Too nervous to stay at home or in his office. He found himself pacing with nothing to do. His mind thinking about Abby’s appointment. While normally a twelve-week check-up wouldn’t be all that involved, Abby had explained that hers would be different. Because of her age she was slightly higher risk which meant she would be getting an extra ultrasound.

Thrilled to have the opportunity to go, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks now, and had him up even earlier than usual. Their appointment was at three and at one o’clock he couldn’t take it anymore. With a goodbye to his two grown children, he let Echo know he wouldn’t be back until later and made his way across the city.

Taking his keys from his ignition, he got out and headed for her building. The campus was a mix of new concrete and old brick architecture surrounded by Douglas Fir trees. A beautiful campus. One he and Bellamy walked all over a year ago when they moved him into the dorms, though he hadn’t quite made it over to her side of the campus.

The Warren G Magnuson building was situated between the Health and Science Learning Center and UW Medical Center. A path led him into a large open courtyard where there were kids and adults of all ages going here and there. Making their way between buildings quickly, some carrying water bottles and coffee, others with backpacks and hands full of books.

Taking the steps up, he was about to reach for a door when it burst open. He took a step back, moving out of the way of a young girl with long blonde hair who ran past him and down the stairs, calling out, “Sorry!”

He shook his head. Young people were always in a hurry these days.

Inside there were armchairs in purples and blues, and tables near large windows that made up the foyer. At each side, there were stairs that lead up to the second floor that opened up into another large space he guessed was used for studying as well. The interior sparsely decorated with school banners, but nothing extravagant. There were no signs. Nothing to indicate which way the classes were or where he could find Abby’s office, however, a small cafe offered him some comfort he wouldn’t be lost for long.

The young man, though not a college student, was able to point him in the way of the faculty offices. There were still another twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be interrupting her.

Down a large hallway, he turned right at the end which was another hall, only this one more narrow and lined with doors. He followed it down, reading the names of the professors on the long, rectangular plaques as he went. A door opened and a woman with dark brown hair stepped out. She wore a frown and stopped to give him a suspicious once-over glare before shutting her door and making her way by him. His head turned as he watched her go, wondering who had pissed in her coffee this morning. It was with a smile he noted her name. Professor Tsing.

Shaking his head, he continued down the hall, his steps slowing when he heard the softness of her voice. She was talking to someone. Something about finals. He came to a stop just before her door hearing a young man telling her goodbye, and that he would see her on Friday.

Stepping to the side, the young man with dark hair and eyes marched past him seemingly as anxious as everyone else to be going today.  

Peeking inside, he saw her standing at her desk, stuffing some papers into her bag. Her long hair was braided and fell over her shoulder. He smiled noting her wardrobe. She had found something to wear. Despite what she may think, had he not known she was pregnant he would have never guessed under all those layers of hers.

His hand rose, and he tapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. She looked up, a soft smile pulling up her lips. God, she was beautiful. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

She shook her head while coming around her desk and he stepped inside. “I bet you say that to all the girls you get pregnant.”

He smirked and lowered his head as she came near. “Mmm, only one,” he said, then met her lips in a kiss. He meant for it to be quick, but she had other ideas. Her hand came up and her fingers threaded into his hair making him shiver. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, their mouths softening under the others. Eventually, the need for air had them drawing away from the other. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Feeling better?” He asked, taking her bag from her when she went to put the strap over her shoulder and placed it over his. For carrying papers and her laptop, the thing weighed a ton. He wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t putting rocks in there.

“Much. I'm sorry, about the other night,” she apologized her shoulders rising and falling along with her sigh. “These headaches have been terrible this week.”

He frowned. “You don't have to apologize. I'd rather you be at home and feel better.”

Her dark eyes lifted to his and carried that playful look she got when they were alone. “I am, however,  feeling better now...”

“Well then maybe I should steal you away with me?” he suggested with a chuckle pulling her back against him to kiss her again.

Their lips parted and she moved her head back enough to gaze up at him. “I like that idea.”

Another quick kiss and he took her hand as they made their way to the car. They managed to get just out of the parking lot before it started to pour. He drove back into downtown while she talked on the phone with Clarke about staying in town with him. Through bits and pieces of her conversation, he deduced something had happened with Clarke and the young man he met a couple of weeks ago. Which he thought was a shame for them. From what he could tell, he was an all right kid. Polite and respectful.

At the clinic, they checked in and Abby gave him a medical history form for him to fill out. Not his first one, he had it filled out pretty quickly. He didn’t realize he had been tapping the pen on the clipboard until he felt Abby’s hand on his knee.

“Hey, are you all right?”

He looked over at her. Her brows were drawn together and a small frown of concern on her lips. “Yeah,” he chuckled quietly, explaining, “it’s just been a while since I’ve been to one of these. Aurora preferred to go by herself, and I never made it to one of the ultrasounds.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed slightly before she slid her gaze back to the magazine in her hand. Her voice was low, when she said, “You know, the more I learn about her, the more I dislike her.”

While he was inclined to agree, it wasn’t something he wished to dwell on anymore. He’d done enough of that and there wasn’t anything he could do to change it. “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. I’m looking forward to seeing ours.” She smiled and looked back at him. Leaned over towards her so that their shoulders touched, he asked, “Will they be able to tell us if it’s a boy or girl?”

“It’s possible to make a good _guess_ if the baby is in a good position, but it’s better to wait until a little later when things are more in place.” She blinked over at him. “Do you want to find out?”

His head tilted to the side. Just when he thought he knew her. “You don’t?”

Her lips pursed together a moment before she said, “I suppose it’d be good to know. Give us a chance to plan.”

Now he was stumped. If either of them would be the one who wanted to know he would have been sure it would have been her. Apparently, not. “Did you find out with Clarke?”

“No. We wanted her to be a surprise.”

_We or Jake_ , he wanted to ask but didn’t. That was none of his business. Their child, however, was.

He set the form on the table in front of them and reached over and took her hand. “Abby, either way, is fine with me.”

“No, it’s fine.” Her grip tightened around his. A small smirk drew the side of her mouth up. “I think this time I'd rather know and besides, I think I have an idea what it is anyway.”

His heart did a little flip in his chest. Amused, he smiled back. “Oh?”

“Abigail Griffin.”

But whatever she thought he would have to wait until later because she reached for the clipboard and stood. With a tilt of her head, she murmured, “Here we go.”

She handed his form to the nurse at the door and he took her purse while she got weighed and then followed them both down the hall and into a room with soft blue walls and a large picture of babies, not on the wall but up on the ceiling above the bed. _Odd_ , he thought, but for what it was intended he supposed it worked.

He placed her things in one of the chairs near the examining table and stayed in the corner while she got her blood pressure taken and chatted about the rain with the nurse. The girl smiled over at him when she was finished, then let them know Diana would be with them soon before leaving the room.

His eyes flicked up to the picture on the ceiling once again as he walked over to stand beside her. His heart went out to all the poor sleeping children all dressed in fairy costumes.

His pity for them must have registered on his face because Abby chuckled and told him, “It’s supposed to be cute.”

He made a face at that. “I can’t help but feel sorry for them.”

She shook her head at him and leaned over pressing a kiss to his cheek. He would have kissed her then but there came a soft knock on the door and then Diana’s smiling face.

“Hey, you two,” she began stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Though it had been a while since he saw Diana, she looked the same as she always did. Cheerful, and done up. She set her iPad on the counter. “You know, Abby, when I told you in college I’d get your pants off you one day, I didn’t mean like this.”

He fought a smile at the way Abby’s face filled with color right before she gave her blonde friend a withering look. “I was never your type, Diana.”

“True.” Diana grinned. “But it’s fun making you blush in front of Marcus, though.”

His lips pulled up. Ever so bold, she was. She walked over to him, and amused, he gave her a small hug. “Diana, always a pleasure.”

“Likewise, _Daddy_ ,” she said pulling away and poking him in the abdomen. Her eyes raking over his face before adding, “Abby was right, I'm the loving the beard you've got going on. How have you been?”

He bit the inside of his cheek at Abby’s soft groan, then replied, “Wonderful, and yourself?”

“Good. Glad to hear you took the news like a champ.”

He looked from her to Abby. Her eyes held a look of apology that again was unnecessary. Stepping beside her he placed his hand on her lower back and told her, “There wasn’t any other way to take it.”

“You’d be surprised.” She raised a brow at him then turned her attention to Abby. “So how are _you_ doing, Momma?”

“Good, tired mostly.” She let out a huff of a breath then added, “Sadly, outgrowing all my pants.”

“You have the tiniest waist on this earth, it was only a matter of time. Not going to be able to keep it quiet much longer.” She gave Abby a look that was very reminiscent of an I-told-you-so and bless his beautiful, feisty partner, she rolled her eyes at her. “Any concerns or questions for me?”

Abby's eyes slid over to him and he shook his head. All the questions he had Abby already answered. “No, I think we’re good.”

“Are you still decided on the optional tests?”

“We are,” Abby began looking back at Diana. “We’re passing on the genetic screening but go ahead with the NT scan and the prenatal screening.”

“Sounds good. I'll go get Kara to grab some blood and let Nyko know you'll be ready for the NT scan.” She grabbed her iPad from the counter. “Then I'll call you with the results and see you in another four weeks.”

Diana gave them both a smile and left them.

He, however, was rooted to the spot. His legs had turned to lead. “Bloodwork, huh?”

“Mmhmm, just a vial,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh.”

His hands fell on his hips, and his eyes on the floor as he tried to ground himself. He could feel Abby’s eyes on him, and he opened his mouth to change the subject, to think about anything other than what was coming, but there was another knock on the door, and a short, young woman with blonde hair and a thick southern accent entered the room. “Hello.”

His eyes flicked up, and he swore under his breath. Took an unconscious step back from the table and the small tray filled with gauze, and empty glass vials, and… _oh, holy Christ_ , yeah that was a needle, all right.

“So you're…” he trailed off and swallowed feeling his stomach fall somewhere between his knees and the floor. “You're doing that in here?”

“I sure am,” she replied, her sweet, musical tone doing nothing to make him feel any more comfortable.

“Do you need to leave the room?”

He looked over at Abby whose eyes were on him and shook his head. “No,” he started then took a step back and then another. “But maybe I'll just go over here.”

He turned to the wall where there were a few magazines in a small rack and stared at the baby against its mother’s chest in the picture.

“Why didn't you say something before?” Abby asked.

He heard the woman put on gloves and then the sound of the package the needle had been in being ripped open. Crossing his arms over his chest, he closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. She told him something about a screening but he dumbly assumed it would happen in another room. “I didn't think they'd do it in here.”

Her soft laughter filled the room, the sound of it helping him relax a little. At least one of them found this amusing. “Are you going to be all right when the baby comes?” she asked him.

His brow creased. Of course, he was. Why wouldn’t he? He chanced a glance over his shoulder at her but then turned back the moment he did catching the bright red blood filling the small tube. “Absolutely. Births don't involve needles,” he said quietly.

“Marcus, if you think for one second I'm doing this the natural way you're out of your mind. There will be a needle and it'll go right in my spine at the soonest possible moment.”

He put his hand against the wall and closed his eyes. His heartbeat kicking up several notches imagining Abby on a bed and someone… _Jesus Christ..._ Was the room spinning? “I may need to leave the room for that one,” he admitted.

“All done with your lovely wife, sugar. You can turn around now.”

He looked away from the wall, eyes sliding over to Abby who had looked over at the same time.

They both smiled at the nurse, but neither of them spoke. He waited until after the nurse left the room before walking over to her. Her eyes held his, and there was a look there. Like she wasn't sure what to say to him after such a slip. It made him want to tell her things, things that he felt deeply that would make such an innocent mistake not so sadly untrue.

But standing in front of her, a soft smile softened her features. Making him reach up and tuck a strand of hair that had fallen from her braid behind her ear. And because he wanted to see if it was only him who felt so strongly for the other, with a half teasing smirk he murmured, “Hey, wife.”

The corners of her mouth tugged up and he let go of the breath he felt he'd been holding. The tension had been broken.

“At least her comment had some of the color return to your face,” she quipped, bringing her hand up and cupping his cheek.

“I hate needles.”

She gave him a slightly unbelieving look and took his arm. Her fingers tracing over the faded ink. “You hate needles and yet you have a _tattoo_ on your arm?”

“I was pissed drunk and in my twenties. They didn't much care back then how hammered you were.”

She gave him a look like she wasn’t buying it, and that was fine because he’d rather be doing other things while they were alone than defend his pitiful excuse, and so dipping his head down, he pressed his lips against hers letting it linger until the door opened, breaking them apart.

“Jesus, look at you two. You're both so domestic already,” Diana’s voice said, and he looked over to find her by the open door standing next to a man who looked like he belonged in the cast of Sons of Anarchy rather than an OBGYN office. “Marcus, Abby, this is Nyko and he’s going to be your technician.”

To his utter amazement, Abby didn’t look the least bit bothered. She slid off the table and grabbed her purse off the chair ready to follow the pair out the door.

He followed behind knowing he was frowning but unable to quite contain it. Was it rude to ask where someone went to school? Not that he didn’t trust Diana, or Abby for that matter, but the man had dreadlocks and tattoos, for Christ’s sake. He expected someone like Kara. Someone a little more Mary Poppins and less Rob Zombie.

Diana left them at another room with one last goodbye, this one smaller than the other with an examining table and an ultrasound machine with a large screen. The technician walked over to the machine and took a seat at the rolling chair, and Abby to the bed.

He followed behind her, giving her his hand as she stepped up on the small step before having a seat on the table. His eyes fell from hers to… Nyko? “So you’re… you do this?”

The technician looked up at him. His features full of amusement like he must get this sort of reaction all the time.“I promise I know what I’m doing.”

He felt Abby’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t mind him, this is his second baby, but first ultrasound.”

“Ah, a virgin.” Nyko chuckled while taking a white bottle from the counter beside him. “Well have a seat. I’ll give you the full show.”

He let out a breath and pulled over a chair to the side of the bed while Abby laid back. A smile tugged up watching her lift her shirt and move the elastic hem of her leggings down exposing the slight curve of her belly.  

Reaching out, he rubbed over her soft skin. He imagined if he were to cut a baseball in half it would look much the same, maybe a little bigger.  He still didn’t think it was as bad as she imagined it was, but three days away from her and he could tell there was a difference. “You're right. I think you are a bit rounder.”

Her gaze drew down to where his hand was rubbing circles on her belly. “I told you.”

“Is this your first?” Nyko asked, turning towards them.

Taking his hand from her belly, he watched the man take the bottle from before and squeeze out a clear substance on it.

Abby shook her head and told him, “No. I've got an eighteen-year-old at home.”

“Oh.” Nyko smiled, turning away to trade the bottle with the small instrument he would use to look at their child with.

Abby’s eyes looked over at him and accused with a tilt of her head. “It's all his fault.”

Nyko chuckled, placing the thing on her belly, moving it around not to look but to spread the substance around. “That's an age difference. Talked you into another one, did he?”

He pulled his eyes away from the screen to meet hers. “Something like that,” she said, smiling softly.

“All right parents, here's your baby.”

In the time it had taken for them to gaze at one another, Nyko had filled the screen with their child. It’s profile there in black and white for them to see. “Oh, my… wow.” He’d seen Octavia’s pictures but this... He tore his eyes away from the screen to her belly and back. Their child was still so _small_. “Wow,” he breathed.

From where his arm had been resting on the table, he felt Abby reach down, thread her fingers with his and he brought it up, placed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“There’s a hand… their fingers... Here are the little feet…” Nyko said, “looks like their legs are crossed at the ankles… another arm.”

He was sure he had the most ridiculous look on his face, but he could care less. The wonderment that was his child filled his chest with warmth and made his eyes sting.

“I'm just going to take the measurements,” Nyko said to them. But he hardly heard him over the thoughts in his head.

“You all right?”

He took a breath, managed to pull his eyes away from their child to gaze down at their beautiful mother. “I’m good,” he assured her, reaching up with the hand that wasn’t in hers to place above her head. His thumb swiping back and forth across her brow.

“You’ve got an energetic one and stubborn. Doesn't want to sit still long enough to let me get a good look picture for you.”

“Sounds just like her mother…” He felt her pinch the skin on his hand. “Oww.”

He looked up at Abby. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “Oh, _I’m_ stubborn?”

He chucked and stood long enough to quickly kiss away the disapproving frown on her lips. “Only in the best of ways.”

When he pulled back her eyes opened and gazed up at him curiously. “Her, huh?”

He shrugged. “It feels wrong calling our child an it now.”

Now that he’d seen the baby, he couldn’t say why but calling it a her felt right to him. But he could be wrong. And he’d still be thrilled either way.

“I could make a good guess,” Nyko said, looking from him to her with a smile that seemed to him to be pretty damn confident.

Abby, however, gave them both a look and shook her head. “No, we’ll wait. It's only a couple of months.”

“She's the boss.” Marcus chuckled and took his seat once again.

Nyko nodded and continued his measurements. Turning the screen a few times more toward Abby so she could see some of the things that would be a concern for and that would tell them if their child might possibly have Down Syndrome. But based on Abby and Nyko’s discussion, it was extremely unlikely, and it helped loosen the knot of tension in his chest he hadn’t realized was there until then.

In the meantime, he looked on. Gazed at their child as she moved around and raised her small arms and legs. Her small features from her forehead to her little chin were… perfect.

“You're going to do that all day aren't you?”

He looked over at her. “What's that?”

“Smile like that.”

“Probably,” he said, his smile widening into a grin. “Is it bothering you?”

She shook her head, and murmured, “Not at all.”


	10. Chapter 10

The following morning Abby had woken up in a panic. Not because anything was wrong or she was running late for anything but because she realized she had nothing suitable to wear to go camping. Lying in bed with Marcus who was sleeping behind her, oblivious to her distress, his arm wrapped around her middle, softly snoring as she mentally went through her wardrobe. None of her jean shorts would fit her, she was sure. All of them had less give than her slacks. And there was no way she was going to wear leggings with the heat wave they expected. She had tee-shirts, but that was about it. At the most, she needed shorts and maybe some new sneakers.

That wasn’t so bad.

Raising her head up, she squinted at the clock on the bedside table. It was only after five in the morning, there was no way she was getting up now. Closing her eyes, she fell back to sleep until she woke again a couple hours later, to the soft presses of Marcus’ lips on her shoulder and his hand sliding up under the hem of her shirt, his fingertips sliding over her side and hips making her shiver. She rolled over, meeting his dark eyes already filled with desire for her, and didn’t mind even a little bit when he leaned down and took her lips with his.

She mentioned she needed to go shopping another hour later when they were standing in the kitchen while he made them bagels with cream cheese, strawberry for her, and honey pecan for him and Octavia.

“Shopping?” Octavia's head lifted from her phone.

She and Marcus shared smiles, and he beat her to ask, “Did you want to go?”

“Hells yeah, I do.”

Once breakfast was over they all went to get dressed. She wore leggings again but kept on Marcus’ thin gray UW shirt that had become hers to sleep in over the last few weeks. The heat was too much for her to keep her hair down while they were out even though she knew Marcus loved it down.

Downstairs in the pub, she and Octavia waited with Echo while Marcus quickly ran downstairs and posted the schedule for the following two weeks. When she first met Echo, Abby hadn’t been sure what to make of the young woman. She gave Abby the impression she was one of those people who were closed-off until you got to know them. As it turned out, Echo was exactly that type, but there was an underlying sweetness to her Abby found endearing. She saw it in the little extra ways Echo helped Marcus out. Making sure things got done, and that he remembered things coming up. Even in the ways she took an interest in Octavia’s life. A motherly protectiveness Abby could appreciate.

When it came down to it, this bar and the people in it were a family. His bar of misfits, he liked to call them.

A family of misfits that were slowly starting to warm up to her.

The mall had been packed. Close to the time parents and kids were starting to prepare for back to school, there were sales in almost every store. And poor Marcus was dragged to almost everyone by Octavia.

She kept away from the two maternity stores but took note of a few things she saw in the windows as she passed, that she’d pick up later when she was alone. She bought four pairs of shorts, two denim pairs and two cotton jersey shorts that Octavia told her she would thank her for later. Also three pairs of shoes, a pair of flat comfortable sandals and a black pair of Chucks for her and a purple pair for Octavia.

They were about to leave but then Octavia dragged her into one last store. A store Marcus was told to wait outside of, and she laughed at the look on his face that he’d  _ want _ to accompany his daughter into a Victoria’s Secret. While she went in to get pajamas to sleep in, she found a little more than she expected and came out with not one bag but two. Marcus had raised a brow, a crooked smirk playing on his lips but said nothing, and she smiled doing the same.

It was after four when they finally got back, she sighed as they got out, hearing Marcus do the same. Making her way to the back to help him get their bags from the trunk, she said, “You really didn't have to go shopping with me.”

He shook his head. “I didn't but I wanted to, and so did Octavia.”

“True, but I didn’t really need quite so much.” And she lifted all of her shopping bags into the air for emphasis.

“You got what you needed, and the rest you only got because my daughter dragged you with her,” he paused and leaned over attempting to gaze down into the red bags in her had. “And speaking of, I never got to see what you have in those bags.”

“Hey, hey…” She held out a finger while moving them behind her back. “These bags are a secret.”

His face fell into a pout. “A peak?”

“Maybe,” she told him raising up on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on his lips. “If you can actually behave yourself until tonight.”

“I always behave.” He pulled her into his arms and she smiled into his kiss, her heart knocked hard in her chest as he pulled her close. God, they were too old for this. Making out on the street like a couple of kids.

“Oh my God, if you guys are going to kiss like that, can you at least go upstairs or something?” Octavia groaned moving around them to collect some of her bags.

They broke apart grinning at each other like idiots.

“Can we get pizza?”

Marcus stepped back and frowned at Octavia. “We just had food. And we had pizza yesterday.”

“Pizza is a food group. Abby, do you want pizza?”

“I could eat pizza again,” she said much to the chagrin of Marcus who stuck out his tongue making a face.

“Haha, yes!”

“But how about we make pizza?” she suggested. She and Clarke used to make it all the time, and there was just something different about making it at home that made it more appealing, at least to her, and apparently to Marcus because his face brightened at the idea.

“Make it?” Octavia echoed with a glance sideways at her.

“Yeah, we can even have a fruit pizza.”

The young girl’s eyes widen her jaw dropping open slightly before saying, “Oh, I like that better.”

From behind them, Marcus chuckled. “I guess that means another trip out to the store?”

Abby stopped walking and turned to him. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’ll help run these up and see if Bellamy wants to ride with me and you girls can sort out all of this. Just make me a list of the things I should pick up.”

“All right,” she said, watching as Marcus went around them both then Octavia's eyes as slid onto Lincoln ,who was just leaving the bar and  _ oh _ , she knew that look.

The young girl’s eyes followed him down the street and Abby cleared her throat and smiled, watching Octavia look anywhere but at Abby, but still hooked her arm with hers and began walking them inside and up the stairs.

Though it may have been none of her business she had to say something. Otherwise, she could see where it was headed and if Marcus caught wind of it, it wouldn’t be good. “You know he’s a lot older than you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Octavia said, “Doesn't hurt to look though.”

Abby laughed and put her hand over Octavia’s. “No, it doesn’t. But try to save your looking for when your father’s not around.”

Upstairs, Octavia got a piece of paper for her from one of those magnetic shopping list notepads that stuck to the fridge and a pen. They decided to make two different pizza’s, one with different meats and veggies for the kids, and another with basil and tomatoes for her and Marcus. He took the paper and raised an eyebrow when his eyes neared the end.

“Sugar cookie dough?”

She nodded. “That’s the crust for the fruit pizza.”

His look was dubious, but folded it and stuck it in his back pocket. “Be back in a bit.”

“All right.” With a quick peck on her lips, he left her and she smiled, watched him leave then went back into his room to sort out all she’d bought.

“Hey, can Luna come over?” Octavia asked walking into the bedroom and dropping to lie on the bed.

She raised a brow at the teenager. “You’re asking me?”

Octavia shrugged. “Why not?”

She felt flattered to be asked but wondered if Octavia thought she’d be easier then asking her father simply because she was the girlfriend. Well, if she did, Abby had news for her. “I’m just taking a guess but I think your dad was looking forward to it just being the four of us tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I kinda figured anyways.”

Abby smiled and pulled one of those annoying clothing stickers from her shorts then tossed it in a pile with the others.

“I wanted to tell you, I’m glad you and dad are dating. He’s been alone a long time and it’s nice seeing him so happy.”

She took a seat on the bed and giving Octavia a smile, reached up and took the hair falling over her shoulder and brought it back so she could see into her eyes more. “He was happy before too,” Abby assured the young girl.

“Yeah, I know but this is different.”

She let out a breath, and admitted, “True.”

“One of my friend’s dad’s remarried and her stepmom is a real bit-” Octavia broke off even though Abby hadn’t said anything, not that she would have but she appreciated the gesture as she corrected, “witch. Thanks for not being one of those.”

Essentially saying thank you for not being a bitch shouldn’t have touched her quite as much as it did, but it had. “You’re welcome, but don’t get your hopes up too much. I have a feeling I can be tougher than your father when it comes to parenting.”

“Maybe,” Octavia said with a small smirk, “but you’re also the kind of parent who will make fruit pizza for dinner. You can’t be that bad.”

Abby swallowed. Felt a tugging around her heart for the young girl she’d been getting to know. “Do any of your clothes need to be washed before tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, go grab them for me and we’ll get that out of the way before tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Octavia groaned and rolled onto her back, then after a heavy sigh, said, “Okay.”

With the wash in, just as they had got out the pans and the oven was on the boys came back with arms full of paper bags.

It would take too much time for her and Octavia to make everything alone, so while Marcus and Bellamy made the regular pizza’s she and Octavia made the fruit one. She chopped and sliced while the young girl made the crust and the cream cheese frosting.

When everything was done she had one slice of her and Marcus’ pizza, but what she and Octavia really devoured was the fruit pizza.

“We should make these every weekend,” Octavia said through a bite and licked the end of her thumb that got a bit of cream cheese on the tip.

Bellamy rose to his feet and leaning over the counter, reached for a piece, the pizza pan acting as one big shared plate between her and Octavia. “You guys know you’re eating dessert for dinner?”

Octavia made a face at him. “So, it’s mostly fruit. It’s healthy.”

“Fruit on a large frosted cookie,” he said, then attempting to take another slice, had his hand smacked away by his sister. “Whoa, share much?”

“Hey the movie is starting,” Marcus called from the living room as they all said they were finished but the three of them hovered in the kitchen eating more.

Abby quickly ate her last two bites and slid from the barstool. She stopped to rinse her plate and put it in the dishwasher. In the living room, Marcus was already on the couch, stretched out with his back against the arm. Looking up as she came in, he patted the spot between his legs making her smile.

Looked comfortable enough to her.

Resting back against him he wrapped his arms around her.

The previews just started to begin when Octavia let out a loud groan. “I don’t know about you guys but I’ve got a major food baby.”

Marcus dropped his head behind her. She felt his lips on her head and heard him snort softly.

“What?” Octavia asked looking over at them.

“Nothing,” Marcus said and then because he was insane added, “Abby’s got one too.”

Her head whipped back, eyes wide. He was holding in a laugh but released it when she lightly slapped his arm that was around her keeping her in place.

“Yeah, you guys are weird.”

A ding saved Abby from any further embarrassment and a moment later Bellamy got to his feet. “I’d love to stay, but I’m going out with Gina.”

“I thought we were going to watch this…”

“Sorry, Dad, girlfriend trumps a movie where no one talks.”

Abby heard his sigh. “Don’t forget we’re leaving here at one,” he reminded.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Bellamy’s voice called then the sound of the front door shutting.

The movie began to play again and then not much longer just as a pair of little bare feet began to run through what looked like a deserted grocery store Octavia said, “Since he gets to go out with Gina can I go stay at Luna’s tonight?”

Marcus paused the movie again. “I thought you wanted to see this too?”

“Oh, please,” Octavia began sitting up, “like you guys don’t want to be alone.”

“We got her as long as we could,” she told him patting his jean-clad knee. Her head fell back against his shoulder. He had a frown. And she got it. He wanted a night with all of them, but they would have the weekend and more nights to come and she told him as much.

“Fine, go. But be back-”

“I know, by one…” She got to her feet and coming over to them, Abby sat up so that Octavia could say goodbye to her dad but was surprised to be the one pulled into a hug. “Thanks for dinner, Abby. And for shopping today, it was fun.”

Abby wrapped her arms around her. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Dad,” Octavia said giving him a quick hug too.

She moved back against him and they were both quiet, listening to Octavia run to her bedroom and then back through the living room with a backpack until they heard the door close once again.

“You okay?” she asked, wondering if he was still in the mood to watch the movie.

He gazed down and gave her a soft smile. “Yeah.” He looked at the screen then back at her. “Do you want to go to bed?”

She shook her head. He’d been really excited to see the movie and she like this, liked just being there with him and doing something as simple watching a movie. “No, I want to see this. And besides, I’m comfortable here.”

He leaned toward her and kissed her forehead before dropping his against hers. “I like you here.”

Closing her eyes, she fought back tears. “Me too.” Tilting her face up, she kissed him then murmured, “Okay play the movie. I have a feeling something bad’s going to happen and I want to see if I’m right.”

He chuckled, and they both got comfortable again right before he started it again. It was the first night she stayed up through a whole movie.

* * *

 

Friday morning Marcus woke with a groan. He set his alarm for five so he could get up and help load the trucks and send Roan off with the equipment for camp and the festival with Lincoln, Wick, and Jasper.

Of course, nothing with his crew was ever easy and the morning became one big shit storm after another. It started with Jasper Jordan who managed to rip one of the tents by snagging it on the side of the trailer while horsing around with Wick, and he in the process, dropped a case of whiskey, and his manager somehow pulling a muscle in his back lifting one of the kegs himself. Marcus tried to insist Roan go get it looked at but the man was too stubborn for his own good and angrily brushed him off. His manager's annoyance then transferred to him and by the time they were done, every single one of them was in piss poor moods.

He needed to drop Abby off at the University and after her final, Clarke would pick her up and take them home to pack, then he would pick them up on their way out of town. After he did, he made a run to REI for another tent. But as his luck would have it, a good salesman spotted him for the weak bastard that he was and used his mood -to get in and get whatever the hell he needed and get out- against him spectacularly, and ended up talking him into a lot more than just a tent. He ended up walking out with not one but two tents. One to replace the torn one and another bigger one, with an open netted top, new camping pillows for them all, a double sleeping bag for him and Abby because  _ why have the hassle of zipping two together _ and  _ how long has it been since you aired them out last? _ The man was good, he’d give him that.

Two hours later, back at the pub, his mood fell once again finding his apartment empty of his two children at five minutes past one. Annoyed, he called his son first who assured him he was on his way and then Octavia who groaned and told him she was a block away and to chill.

What she didn’t know was that he had lost his chill way before then and told her she had ten minutes to get home or he was leaving her there under Echo’s watch for the entire weekend. Forty-five minutes, SUV packed with not two but three kids as Bellamy invited Gina along without asking him, leaving her without a way home if he said no, and one headache later, he pulled up to Abby’s, relieved to find her and Clarke ready to go.

Somehow Abby picked up on his mood. She sent Clarke out to the car and pulled him into the house with her. He tried to resist at first, but she was as stubborn as he, if not more so, and when the door closed behind him and her eyes looked up into his, he apologized and then vented. About all of it and once he was done she kissed him and that’d been the end of it.

She locked up shortly afterward and they were on the road. The clouds began to break up just as they got outside of the city. While the kids chatted, he listened to the radio while Abby graded her finals. His eyes flicked over to her at every huff and sigh that accompanied every drag of her red pen over the crisp white paper.

“You guys made pizza?” Clarke asked from beside Octavia. “Awe, I missed it.”

“Dude, it was so good,” Octavia replied, “You should come over next weekend and we can make it again.”

“Did you make it with mangos?”

“Mangos? No! Is that better?”

“Yeah, Mom makes a tropical one with mango, pineapple, star fruit, kiwi, and acai. So good.”

“Yeah, that’s happening,” Octavia started with a finality that had him and Abby looking over at one another sharing amused smiles.

“Next week I have Friday off.”

“Badass.”

They pull up to the camp just as Abby was finishing her last paper. A relieved look accompanied her soft sigh.

“Are you happy with the results?”

“Eight of twenty of my students aced it and no one failed. It’s been a sunny summer so I’m calling that successful.”

He grinned at her. “I’d say so.”

The kids got out as soon as he shut off the engine. Their two and a half hour drive that should have been an hour because of construction and other visitors making their way up, had made Octavia and Bellamy restless. They had never been great kids to take on a road trip somewhere. Anything over three hours made Octavia car sick and Bellamy was just too damn impatient. Their anxiety though was all thanks to their mother, for packing them both into a car in the dead of night and driving them from Seattle to Miami in three days.

Planes they could handle okay but put them in a car… He had them in therapy after he got them back, but they hated it so much he didn’t force them to continue. Looking back now, perhaps he should have.

“Marcus…” He gazed over to see Abby watching at him. Her eyebrows furrowed a small frown of concern on her lips. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said taking off his seat belt. “I just got to thinking…” he trailed off and she tilted her head, her look of concern never disappearing. “You know what never mind. It’s all in my head.”

She reached over and took his hand. “No, what?”

With a sigh, he told her. He felt foolish. Bellamy was a grown man and soon enough Octavia would be out on her own. Even so, he’d been parenting on his own so long, a part of him wanted to share his doubts and mistakes he thought that he made along the way, especially to the woman he was about to start that journey with all over again.

Her hand tightened around his. “Marcus, you did everything you could. If a little road trip anxiety was all to come out of it, I would count that as your own success. They love you, you’re an amazing father.”

They drifted towards the other and their lips just begin to brush when there came a rapping on the back of the SUV then Bellamy’s voice.

“Dad, ya wanna open the back or what?”

He let out a long sigh. “But I can still want to drive off and leave them here while being a good father, right?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a smirk and then quick kiss to his lips.

Grabbing their bags, sleeping bags, and all the stuff he bought earlier that day, they made their way over to their usual reserved spot. He spotted Wick, Jasper, and Lincoln there putting up tents which meant Roan had everything at the festival set up.

“Look, you have to put all the poles in first…” Lincoln was telling Jasper.

“I think I got this,” the young man said, straightening from where he was bent over the heap of material at his feet.

Lincoln snorted. “Sure you do.”

“Heeeey, boss,” Wick said spotting them and running over to them. Looking relieved to be away from the others.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Great.” Wick motioned behind him with a wave of his hand. “Most of the tents are up except a couple others and this one’s who refuses any help.”

“It’s an art form,” Jasper called out over his shoulder.

“An art form, meanwhile Lincoln and I set up four tents before yours,” Wick replied. The annoyance wasn’t hidden from his tone.

“Right, well, he won’t have a place to sleep until he gets that set up himself, will he?” Marcus said loud enough for them all to hear. “Don’t worry about the rest, Bellamy and I will set up the others.”

Wick grinned at Jasper’s back; no doubt happy he wasn’t making him help Jasper and went off to help Lincoln with the last tent he was working on.

“Dad, are Clarke and I sharing mine?”

He looked over his shoulder. Octavia’s tent already apart of the ones that had been set up by the guys. “Yep,” he told her. “There should be enough room for the two of you. Bellamy, help me set up mine and Abby’s and then we’ll do yours.”

“Sure thing.”

“Well while you guys do that I’m going to make sure the girls have everything they need,” Abby said coming over beside him. Her eyes were searching all around them and he looked around too like there might have been something particular she could be looking for. “But first, tell me there is a bathroom?”

He laughed at the sheer look of pleading in her eyes. “There is. It’s around the trees there. They keep it cleaned and stocked.”

Her shoulders dropped with obvious relief. “Oh, thank God.”

He waited until she was far enough away to chuckle. He would make a camper out of her yet.

In no time at all his and Abby’s tent was up and they had just finished putting up Bellamy’s when Abby wandered over to their tent from where she’d been talking with the girls while they aired up their own mattresses with the portable air pump. Best frecking invention ever made if you asked him. 

“It’s bigger than I expected,” she said.

He pressed his lips together, intended to let her innocent comment go but in the end couldn’t help himself and ask, “Is it?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t see an air mattress.”

“It’s the next thing I’m setting up.” His eyes looked over her. She seemed tired. “You all right?”

Sure enough, she let out a yawn. “Fine. It was an early morning. Do you want me to help with anything?” 

He shook his head. I’ll have this blown up in a couple of minutes after the girls finish with theirs and then we can go over and see how Roan’s doing or if you want, you can stay here and rest?”

“No, I’ll come. I just need to walk around.”

He reached out and placing his hand on her lower back pulled her against him. His lips falling onto her brow. “Don’t you worry, they’ll be plenty of time for that.”

She looked up and lifting on the tips of her toes, leaned in and whispered, “You’ll have to remember to be quiet,” then kissed him sweetly before leaving him to look after her.

* * *

 

When she agreed to go on this little trip she hadn’t factored in a lot of things. Things like just how hot it would be, how horrible she might feel because of it, and how her hormones would decide, only four hours in, she was done with any and all festivities. She’d been fine all morning and in the car, didn’t even mind the park and the trees and the shade. At least they provided some relief from the sun. 

They arrived at the festival with the sun high in the sky beating down on them. Walked through the large field filled with people and events and more people… It was the sort of thing she would have enjoyed any other time but now, with as tired as she was and the headache she was getting, only found annoying.  With how she was feeling she should have stayed home. Marcus would have understood. But the idea of spending the time with him away from their lives made her willing to overlook pretty much everything. 

Marcus waved at someone ahead, and her eyes scanned the crowd picking out his business partner almost instantly. 

“Indra, you remember Abby, and this is her daughter, Clarke.”

They exchanged their hellos, and Abby was able to push aside her mood for the moment and be pleasant. A small favor she thanked her child for immensely.

“Are you enjoying the festival?”

She smiled. Thought about how they were all there, together and what was more important were the kids and they were. “We are.”

“Glad to hear it. There’s a lot going on. I'm about to join my family. I hope you all have a good day.”

She looked after Indra but slid her eyes on the man beside her whose eyes were on his employees. Roan and Wick were serving drinks, with Anya who had come up for the day shouting out orders to Jasper and another young man she had yet to meet in the truck. To her, they seemed to be handling things well, but she could see in the set of Marcus’ chin he was itching to help. 

She put her hand on his arm, and he looked down at her. “I’m going to go help them get started.”

“Go.” She motioned to the truck with a tilt of her chin and with a real smile, one she felt and told him, “Do your thing.”

He smiled in return, and stepped forward so he could kiss her one last time. “I’ll find you all in a little bit.”

She nodded, and found the girls not far away. They were with Bellamy and Gina, and Lincoln. Clarke was heavily in the conversation but Octavia not so much. She only had eyes for the tan, handsome young man. It may not have hurt to look, but her looks were going to get her in trouble. With a sigh, she started off over to the small group, hating to break up all the fun.

But at her approach Lincoln made himself busy, telling them he’d see them later. Maybe because he thought she’d tell Marcus he was standing around when she was pretty sure he was supposed to be working or that she caught him staring right back at Octavia. Either way, she was glad he left when he did. 

“Come on, ladies,” she said taking Octavia by the shoulders and steering her away. “Let's go find something to do while Marcus helps out for a while.”

They watched the piping and drumming, throwing the stones, hammers, and caber. The stones and the hammers were a lot of fun. A lot of the competitors were not only men but women and it was amusing to see some of the girls out toss the boys. 

While stands were shaded, provided some relief from the heat, it wasn’t enough. She started feeling drained of more energy than before making her want to lie down somewhere and sleep.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

Straightening in her seat, she gave her daughter a small smile. “I’m fine, it’s just hot out.” Reaching down beside her foot, she grabbed her bottle of water and drank the last little bit left then frowned at the empty bottle. “You know what,” she began, getting to her feet, “I’m going to go find Marcus and get some more water. Stay together or text one of us if you go somewhere else.”

Twin, “We will’s” came from both girls, and Abby made her way from the stands, back across the field. She didn’t know how long Marcus wanted to stay and help out, but if he was going to be much longer she was going to walk back to camp and take a nap. 

She found him easily enough, talking with a group of elderly gentlemen in kilts and thick accents, so thick Abby was having a hard time keeping up with what they were saying. Whatever they were talking about it must have been funny because Marcus grinned, and his eyes crinkled at the sides right before he burst out laughing. She stood back and watched, happy to be a silent observer. 

Soon though, the men began to disperse, one by one shaking Marcus’ hand and wandering out amongst the crowd. She hadn’t gone as unnoticed as she thought she had as his gaze slid on her, a small smile pulled his lips up right before she started towards her. 

She pushed herself away from the tree she’d been leaning against, and took a step and then another meeting him just under the edge of the tree. 

“Hey,” he said, drawing her into an embrace. She hummed a contented sigh, dropping her head against his chest and closing her eyes. He smelled good. Like pine and a small hint of the cologne he wore.  She could take a nap right there standing up while he held her. “Where are the kids?”

“Bellamy went with Gina somewhere, and Octavia and Clarke were going to stay and watch the dancing.”

She felt him drop a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad the girls are getting along so well.”

She hummed again, sleepily. “They are.”

“How are you doing?” he asked, with a soft chuckle. 

Her head rose and she let out a breath. “Honestly? The heat is killing me, I’m so tired I could fall down and take a nap right under this tree, and if that wasn’t enough, I’m hormonal but other than that… peachy.” 

He frowned slightly, then his lips pursed together right before he looked back at the truck then back at her. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?” 

Something in his voice gave her pause. Slowly, she replied, “Yes, why?”

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” 

“Somewhere where we can cool you off and then have that nap.”

“A hotel?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Afraid not, but better.”

Better than a hotel? She doubted it. Had a feeling what she considered to be better were vastly different from what he did. But still, she trusted him. And so she let him take her hand and with a quick goodbye to his staff they made their way from the festival.

He took her to the car and drove out of the park, the way back from where they came. He had her send texts to the kids telling them they were going back to camp for a couple hours. She got replies almost instantly. All of them busy having their own fun. As an afterthought, she sent Clarke a text to watch Octavia and make sure she didn’t go off on her own with a certain tattooed young man. Clarke sent her back and  _ LOL  _ and  _ I noticed that too. I promise I won’t let her out of my sight. _

With the assurance the kids were okay and the air conditioner on her annoyance finally began to dwindle, guilt slowly replacing it. She should be able to control her moods better. Yes, she was pregnant, yes it was hot, but it wasn’t his fault. Well, okay he shared an equal responsibility in it, but not for the way she behaved. 

A few miles down the road, he pulled off the road under an alcove of trees. There was nothing and no one around, and it had her looking over and raising an eyebrow at him but he was already out of the car. 

She followed, albeit reluctantly. Holding out his hand, she took it and let him lead her through the trees. They walked for maybe a minute and then the sound of water over rocks and they came out of the trees and her to a halt.

The sight before her was beautiful. There was a large stream with a beach looking bank that cut through the trees. And while the deep greens and blues were enchanting, his words from earlier came back to her. He couldn’t be serious.

“A river, really, Marcus?”

He was serious though because the next thing she knew, his shirt came off and he was unbuttoning his jeans. Her eyes raked down his toned chest and abdomen. Followed the trail of hair down until it disappeared beneath the black material. “It’s shallow and never gets higher than your knees. Come on, take off those shorts and get that sexy arse of yours out here.”

There was no one around but she felt the heat rise in her cheeks regardless. “My underwear is not a swimsuit.”

He chuckled, tossing his pants and shirt on a nearby rock. “We can pretend it is.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Watched him as he walked out in nothing but his boxer briefs and sat down in the middle of the stream like he owned it. The top of the water just barely hitting his upper abdomen. “Come on, Abby, you know you want to.”

“You know, the air conditioner in the car was cooling me off just fine.”

“Ah, but you can’t beat the view here. And I’ve already kissed you in the car.”

She rolled her eyes but her heart wasn’t in it. “Do you have a list of places you want to kiss me or something?”

“I may have. You’d have to come out here to find out.”

She tried but failed to glare at the smug handsome man in the water. The air was cooler by the river than it had been back at the festival but it was still hot and damn him the water looked like heaven. She dropped her hands and sighed. “I hate you, Marcus Kane.”

“Nah, you love me and you know it,” he replied. His offhand comment had her pausing, but only for a second. Her shirt came off first and then, looking around, she removed her shorts. 

He grinned at her as she made her way out to him. “Looks like a swimsuit to me,” he told her, making her shake her head. The water was cold and felt amazing, but if he thought she was going out there and sitting on some random rock or God knows what else, he had another thing coming. Stepping on either side of his legs she lowered herself down and straddled him. He grinned at her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Better?”

She smiled, then giggled as he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. “Better,” she murmured against his lips moments later.

* * *

 

“How about some food before we go back?” he asked Abby glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Her hair brushed to the side over her shoulder, the ends still wet from the river. “Have you eaten today?”

The small smile she gave him looked… guilty right before she looked away. “I shared a scone with Clarke this morning, so food might be a good idea.”

Looking back at her, he gave her his own look, but her attention was out the window at the scenery they passed. He shook his head and thought, not without a little sarcasm,  _ Might be a good idea.  _ Might also be a good idea for him to check on her more. He really couldn’t believe it. The woman was amazing at taking care of everyone around her but horrible at taking care of herself.

He was just going to have to make taking care of her his priority then. A simple task for the woman he loved carrying his child. 

Blinking at the road in front of him, his thoughts came slowing to a halt. Octavia teased it, he felt it, but he hadn’t so much as  _ thought _ it. And now there he was, thinking them so cool and casually like he had been all along.

Back at the festival, they got out of the car, and Jesus, between the sun and how relaxed they’d come back from the river, even he felt like taking a nap. And she looked just as tired as she had been before. But first, he needed to get some food in her. With his arm around her shoulders, her arm wrapped around his waist and they ventured lazily over across the field. 

When they approached the line of vendors, he kept walking, leading them over to his truck because he knew they could find something there they both liked. Spotting Indra and her daughter Gaia, he raised his hand to wave but Abby had come to a stop before he could. He looked over and was she paler than she had been? 

His brow furrowed, concern for her made his chest tighten. Her eyes shifted from him to a table beside a truck that was cooking sausages and steaks and…  _ shit _ . He knew what was coming before it happened.

“Marcus, I...”  but whatever she wanted to say he didn't get the chance to hear. She put her hand over her mouth and darted back the way that they had come. 

“Abby?” he started, and had every intention of following after her, but a voice behind him had him pausing and looking back to find Indra staring up at him with a curious stare.

“Is she sick?”

Oh, well, fuck. He swallowed, and let out a breath. While they would be telling their friends and family soon, they still hadn’t told their kids, and, though he knew Indra wouldn’t say anything, he thought it only right that their family heard the news first. With a shrug, he adopted the look he gave most people when they asked him how he was doing after his divorce and lied, “She just started feeling a bit under the weather. Could be a bug.”

Indra’s head tipped to the side. Her eyes narrowing. “Why do you have that look?” 

A chuckle, something rich and deep bubbled up from his chest as he tried to escape her acute observation for bullshit. “What look?” 

“The look you get when you're keeping something from me.”

Indra, like Abby, was never one to beat around the bush.  “I don’t keep things from you.” Her eyebrows rose, and he amended, “All right, sometimes I withhold truths.”

“Just like you are right now…” she began, slowly. 

“Indra, Abby’s fine,” he interrupted, because she was and because he needed to end this conversation and go check on her. “And if there were something, I’d hope you’d trust me to say something when the time was right.”

His friend eyed him. Didn’t believe a damn word he said, but judging by the way her eyes softened, decided she’d let him off the hook. “All right, friend. But you’re both not fooling everyone.”

He blinked at her. “I wouldn’t be so bold as to think we would.”

“Go,” she told him with a tilt of her chin in the direction Abby had gone. “Check on your girlfriend.”

With a nod, he left. It took a little bit of searching, but he found Abby standing over beside his trailer, leaning against it with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed.

“Hey, you all right?”

She took a deep breath through her parted lips then another and nodded. “It’s the smell of the meat that got to me. It’s been happening a lot lately. I think your child is a vegetarian.”

He had to laugh at the idea though it wasn’t really funny, not in the least. “What can I do?” he asked while gently reaching over and rubbing her back.

“I’m hungry but I don’t want to go back over there. I didn’t throw up, but I don’t want to risk it.”

“That’s fine. I can get us something. What do you want?”

“Anything without meat. The thought of it…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Just no.”

“Okay, stay here while I grab us something and then we can go back to camp for a while.”

She nodded and he left. The search for food that didn’t have some meat proved to be harder than he imagined, but in the end, he managed to find a few different things. One of which he knew she’d enjoy even if it wasn't the healthiest. When they got back into the city he’d be sure to make sure she ate something more substantial, but for now, it would do. 

He arrived back and found her sitting on the grass, on her phone. Still looking tired but not nearly as pale as she’d been. She smiled seeing him, and got to her feet. Her eyes widening at the four food containers and two large bottles of water he carried.

“What’s all that?” she asked, tone full of amusement making his spirits lift.

“I got you waffles with powdered sugar and strawberries, and sweet potato fries, and a pretzel.”

“And what did you get?”

“I got myself the same.”

Her shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For this. For ruining this weekend with my bad mood, and exhaustion, and my aversion to meat.”

“Abby, it’s not your fault.” He set their food on the top of the hood of the truck parked next to them and pulled her to him. “Hey, come here. It’ll get easier eventually.”

His heart ached for her. Made him wish there was something he could do for her other than just hold her even though she’d told that it helped. He still felt useless and he hated it. 

“I know.” She sniffed and drew away with a soft growl.

He chuckled lightly at the look of annoyance on her face that was directed at her tears. “You’re allowed to be upset. Why don’t we go back to camp and eat and get you a nap.”

She looked up at him, nose red, eyes wet from her tears still knocking him breathless with her beauty. “You’re really wonderful, you know.”

He laughed and bent to kiss her forehead. “I try.”

On their way back to camp, they called their kids. Clarke and Octavia were just about to start a pie eating contest and Bellamy was off with Gina at the lake not far away. He hadn’t minded they left but whatever they were up to (he knew what they were up to) he hoped they were being safe. Abby raised a brow at him when he told her, and yes, the hypocrisy was not lost on him. Even tempted him to use themselves as an example later. This was what happened when you don’t use precautions. 

But even then, he and Abby weren’t the best illustration because for them it worked out. The baby may have been an accident but brought them together again, but he had no doubt they would have made it there anyway. They weren’t young, like Bellamy and Gina. Their lives were set. So he felt damn justified telling his son to be careful. 

Abby made it through her waffles, the fries, and a few bites of her pretzel then gave in. “Stuffed,” she had said then laid down on the air mattress her back against the side of the tent, closing her eyes and nearly half asleep before he set things aside and joined her. 

Under the many large evergreens, their tent had stayed cool shielded from the sun and it wasn’t long before she drifted off against him.

Pulling out his phone, he set his alarm for an hour and a half, so they could go join the kids for the bagpipes and the bands that would play at the end of the day. Kissing Abby’s brow, he closed his eyes and fell asleep until the sound of Bach woke them.

Later that evening they sat around a campfire, all eating the food Roan, Jasper, Wick, and Lincoln brought back after they closed up for the night. The crew still needed to go back and finish cleaning, but we're taking a well-deserved break back at camp with them for a while. The sun was dipping down low on the horizon, and with it the temperature. So much so it had him going back to their tent to find his sweatshirt for Abby to wear and the girls to get theirs from their own. 

For the last hour, the kids had all been trying to see who could talk with the best Scottish accent. It’d been quite hilarious. Roan and Abby both refused to play. Abby because she was embarrassed and Roan, well because he was a grumpy bastard. And he had been excluded for obvious reasons. Octavia was the best out of them all, but even then they called foul because she had spent time in Scotland with him recently. Wick and Gina, bless them, were shite, but surprisingly, Lincoln and Clarke came in right after Octavia with Bellamy somewhere in the middle. 

“Boss, tell us some Scottish phrases,” Jasper said waking up from his nap against a fallen tree. 

“Phrases?” He broke off a piece of wood from the stick he had been drawing with in the dirt and tossed it into the fire. A chuckle left him. He knew many phrases, the hard part was thinking of some that were semi-appropriate. “Oh Jesus, give me a minute on that one.”

“What is it you called Jasper that one time?” Wick asked grinning over at Jasper probably talking about the day Marcus had got called outside of the bar because Jasper had backed the pub’s truck into Marcus’ car. It’d been just after he bought the damn thing and he was bit pissed.

“Bawbag?” Jasper said. 

“What is that?” Gina giggled, next to his son.

Bellamy grinned. “He called him a dick.”

“Not a dick,” Marcus corrected, grinning. “I called him a scrotum. There’s a difference.”

Everyone erupted in laughter except Jasper who flipped him off though Marcus knew it was given with love. 

“Let see-” he began.

“How about just the Scottish insults?” Wick suggested.

Marcus laughed. “Well, mostly everything in Scotland is sarcastic or an insult in one way or the other. Okay, there’s, shut yer geggie, meaning, shut your mouth.”

“Boriiiiiing,” Jasper called cupping his hands around his mouth drawing it out like a fog horn.

“How about that thing you said on New Years that nearly made me piss myself.” This came from Roan. He was sitting on the other side of the small fire beside Echo, who drove up after her shift to surprise him. 

Marcus scoffed. The night came back to him without having to think of it. It’s been a crazy ass night. Everyone was pissed drunk before midnight, not giving a good God damn about the time, and he’d decided to help out behind the bar. Late into the evening there had been a woman, or he assumed as much, who came in and sat at the end of the bar nearest to him giving him the eye. Roan refused to help her, made Marcus refill glass after glass just so he could sit back like the bastard he was and watch her try to flirt with Marcus. There had been bright red lipstick on her teeth, and she wore a sheer white dress that had been stretched over her like a summer sausage leaving damn near nothing to the imagination. 

He threatened to fire his manager more times than he could count that night.

He cleared his throat, very aware that Abby was watching him with a curious little stare where she was tucked up beside him, and said, “I wouldnae ride her in tae battle,” he said doing his very best to bring some all of his Scottish inflection into it. 

Most everyone got what he said almost immediately, but not all because it took Gina and Jasper a moment to process the meaning. Abby however, hadn’t missed it and slapped the inside of his thigh playfully. 

“That’s horrible,” she said through a smile. 

He grinned and leaning in, he murmured into her ear accent and all, “I’d ride ye into battle,” loving the way she hummed a delightful sound then hid her face into his arm directly after.

“There’s bonnie,” Octavia said, “Grandma uses that all the time.”

“She does, bonnie or braw means pretty or beautiful. Like saying, my bonnie lass.” He looked over at Abby and kissed her cheek. “Probably one of my favorite ones.”

“She also uses eejit,” Bellamy supplied.

Jasper’s head shot up and his eyes widened. “I know that one.”

“All right, my crew, let's go clean up,” Roan said rising to his feet.

Jasper and Wick moaned but got to their feet, followed by Lincoln who shared a handshake with Bellamy. It seemed everyone was anxious to go do their own thing as Octavia and Clarke stood, even Gina and Echo.

Marcus looked at Abby who nodded and he stood, calling out, “Hey our kids, can you guys stay here for a few minutes? Abby and I want to talk to you.”

Gina and Echo made their ways towards the tents and the others took their seats once again.

“What is it?” Bellamy asked a bit too impatiently for Marcus. 

Abby stood beside him and took his hand, her touch helping to calm the nerves that began to build. “This won’t take long,” he assured his son, then tightened his hand around Abby’s before taking a deep breath having all their attention on them now. “We wanted to talk to you all together and thought this would be a good time to share with you something we’ve been waiting to tell you. You see, Abby and I-”

“I knew it, you’re getting married, aren’t you?” Octavia beamed up at them. One of the biggest, brightest smiles he could remember seeing on her in a long time. His chest tightened, and he opened his mouth to correct her when she turned to Bellamy and said, “I called it! Bell, pay up!”

Bellamy cursed and reaching for his wallet began to give her hell for being around all the time and had inside information.

“What? No, Octavia, it’s not… we’re not…” Abby began trailing off because it seemed like only Clarke was the one listening and gazed up at him with a pleading look in her eyes.

“We’re not getting married,” he called and held up his hand to gain their attention back on him. 

“Oh.” Octavia’s shoulders deflated. “Then what? Are you moving in together?”

He looked down at Abby who gaze lifted to his. They’d never talked about it before, and truth be told they would have to start thinking about that sort of thing soon but that wasn’t what they were there for. 

“Maybe later...” 

His brows rose up, as did his lips to Abby's comment. “They’re not making this easy on us, are they?”

“What else could it be?” Octavia all but whined. “Just tell us.”

Abby took a deep breath from beside him. “You guys, your father and I,” and to Clarke, “Marcus and I are going to have a baby.”

Silence. 

Eyes darted from one to the other almost as if they hadn’t heard their ears right, confirming silently between them all that they had. 

It was Bellamy who finally spoke. “I’m sorry, but what?”

“Abby’s pregnant,” he said feeling like the ground may open and take him at any moment. 

“So you’re going to have a  _ baby _ ,” Octavia said slowly as if speaking to children, “but you’re not going to get married or move in together?”

“It’s a little too soon for that, Octavia…” he began.

“But having a baby isn't?” Bellamy interrupted.

They were valid points. Ones they were prepared for.

“We realize this is a surprise, it was a surprise to us too,” Abby told them. 

Clarke spoke up, “So this wasn’t planned?”

“No,” he told Clarke in the gentlest way possible knowing for her this would be more difficult to accept than Octavia and Bellamy. “But it’s happened and Abby and I,” to his kids, and to Clarke, “your mother and I, are having a baby and raising it together.”

“Wow,” Bellamy paused. “I mean, I’m happy for you both.”

“I am too.” Octavia nodded. “But you know grandma’s going to flip her lid…” 

Eyes widening, Marcus cut her off with a, “Let’s not talk about your grandmother right now.”

“Just saying…” she started again but the look he gave her had her leaving her thought where it was.

“So when can we expect this bundle of joy?” Bellamy asked. 

“Mid February,” Abby told them. 

They all grew silent again, and he could see them all doing the math in their heads. They’d expected them to. 

“Well awesome, a baby brother or sister for us. Great.” Octavia smiled. “Can we have s’mores now?”

Marcus frowned. He might as well have just told them they were going to Tri-Cities for Christmas for as much enthusiasm as they all had. “Yes, go ahead.” It was only slightly disappointing but it was better than them being upset he supposed. With a sigh, he turned towards Abby and let out a heavy sigh. “That went well.”

* * *

Reaching up, she pulled him down and kissed him lightly. She could tell from his tone he’d wished for another reaction. “They’ll be okay.”

His smile was soft, knowing. “I know.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Clarke get to her feet and come toward them. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach tightening into knots at the thought of what her daughter might think of her. Her eyes were already filled with tears when she reached her. Clare had been the quietest, the most reserved and it had killed her not being able to read on her what might have been going through her mind. She whispered a quiet, “Hey, honey.”

Clarke smiled at her and over at Marcus. “I just want you both to know I’m happy for you. It doesn’t sound like something that was planned…”

The knot in her stomach tightened. Clarke knew. She’d counted the months back to know it was around the anniversary of her father’s death. “It wasn’t…” Abby’s voice cracked and with it, her tears fell.

“I know…” Clarke murmured back and pulled her into a hug. The stress of the last few weeks, of the day, of everything, finally broke, and with it a sob. “Mom, stop. It’s okay, okay?” She pulled away, nodding feeling Marcus’ hand on her lower back as Clarke looked from him then back to her. “I’m glad you guys have each other.”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Marcus said.

Clarke hugged her once more, and Abby breathed her in, letting go of the weight she carried worrying about this day. And when her daughter pulled away she saw her eyes bright and happy. “I’m going to go watch the bonfire.”

Octavia sprung to her feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“Me too,” Bellamy said. 

They watched their kids leave, then Marcus stepped away from her, back into the chair he vacated and smiled up at her.

“I’ve got a seat for you right here.”

She settled into his lap, back against him with a sigh. His arms wrapped around her warming her. “Do you think they’re really okay?”

“I do,” he whispered, his tone so sure she almost let herself believe him.

She sat there with him while twilight became night and thought over their conversation. How accepting they all had been and how much harder she thought it would be. Though she thought she sensed some hardness to Bellamy that could have been something else entirely.

What did really make her wonder was Octavia’s comment about Marcus’ mother and how very quick he was to have the young girl drop the subject. 

Curious, she asked, “What was Octavia talking about, about your mother?”

One of his hands rose to pinch the bridge of his nose and she was sure that if he could have kept Octavia from mentioning her, he would have. “She’s very religious. She saw my divorce as a sin, and it took her a long while to get over that.”

“So our baby…”

“I don’t want you to worry what my mother might think,” he interrupted, taking her hand with his, running his thumb over her knuckles before raising it and kissing the back. “She’s a long ways away and her opinions about our life and our child don’t matter.”

Settling back against him, she let her head rest against his shoulder and looked up. The view of the stars was so much clearer than in the city. “It is beautiful out here.”

She felt his nose nudge against her temple right before he placed a kiss to her cheek as he said, “It is.”

She looked over, found him gazing at her. A laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Stop it and look at the sky.”

“I’ve seen it,” he replied. 

Oof, he was good. A slow smile spread across her lips right before she leaned forward and kissed him. 

“The kids are gone. They will be for a while.”

Another chuckle. “What did you have in mind?”

“Our tent has a view of the sky too.”

“Well then,” she began and then with one last light peck, got to her feet. Holding out a hand she raised a brow. “We should probably use our time alone wisely.”


	11. Chapter 11

Four weeks flew by before Abby knew it. With her break from classes nearly over, she was already back at the university preparing for the semester ahead. And with the return of her energy (that seemed to come back to her after week sixteen), she found herself optimistically looking forward to the next few months rather than dreading them. 

Just as long as she kept out of the dining halls. At just over seventeen weeks, her aversion to meat had not gotten any better only worsened. So much so she had to start incorporating more protein-based plant foods like spinach and broccoli, quinoa and lentils, and her favorite that Marcus had found for her, almond chocolate milk into her diet. The doctor in her reasoned at least her meals were a lot healthier than they had been, but Abby mourned her teriyaki chicken.

At least she felt better, and that was what was important. 

A soft voice at her door had her looking up from her laptop. A smile lighting her face when her daughter stepped into the room. “Hey, honey. What are you doing here?”

Clarke’s head tipped to the side, her smile amused. “Registering, remember?”

“No, I knew that you were going to do that today I just didn’t expect you to come here.”

“Well, yeah,” Clarke laughed lightly and raised a white bag into the air. “Who else would I have lunch with?” 

Abby dropped a hand to her stomach that had been growling on and off for the last hour and rose from her chair. The oatmeal she had for breakfast seemed like forever ago. She tilted her head trying to read the name on the take-out. “You brought lunch?”

Clarke placed the bag on the table. “I’ve never seen you look so excited over food.”

Abby frowned over at her, and quipped, “It’s all your sibling's fault.”

Her look was skeptical, and she hummed like she wasn’t buying it. “Well, I hope he or she likes southwest sweet potato taco bowls… _without_ the chicken.”

Sweet potato taco bowls? God, how horrible was it her mouth was already watering? She had been missing her and Clarke’s taco nights for weeks. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Not since this morning,” Clarke said, grabbing her styrofoam container and taking a seat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk.

“Too long then,” she said, with a grateful smile. “I love you. Thank you, honey.”

Abby went back around her desk, and setting her laptop aside, retook her chair and dug into her meal along with Clarke. And God, it was so good. She actually moaned through her first bite making her daughter laugh. 

Each of them ate a few bites in silence until Clarke paused to take a drink from one of the bottles of water she got for each of them. Gesturing with a tilt of her chin at the stacks of papers, asked, “How’s all this going?” 

Abby gazed around her cluttered desk. Syllabus’, class schedules, attendance sheets, and books. To anyone who wasn’t her, it looked like a mess, but it was her organized mess. “Good. I think I’m almost ready. Did you get the classes you wanted?”

“Mostly. All except for the history class in the afternoon that had a waitlist as long as the Great Wall of China. So I went ahead and took the morning class.”

For a few seconds, Abby stared at her daughter. For months Clarke had been saying she couldn’t wait to go to college and finally be able to take afternoon classes and sleep in. Not that she could blame her. She wasn’t a morning person either, but something told her there was more than meets the eye. She finished the bite of seasoned potato then asked, “What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty.”

Hmm. Something was definitely afoot. “What days?”

“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.” Her daughter didn’t look at her. Her gaze was drawn down on her food as she picked through it. “I figured it would work and that way you can always ride here with me. I have a math class later in the afternoon, so I’ll be here when you’re ready to go home.”

Her eyes narrowed at her daughter. “Have you been plotting with Marcus?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice sounded innocent, but Abby knew better.

A little over a week ago she and Clarke went and had dinner with Marcus and Octavia and while she and Octavia made salads, Marcus and Clarke had been at the dinner table talking, their voices low. When she asked what the conspiracy had been about, they both laughed and said they had been talking about Clarke's classes.

She pointed her fork at her daughter. “I saw you both talking at dinner the other night. I don’t need to be coddled.”

Clarke merely shrugged. “If you don’t want to ride with me to class and spend the mornings and afternoons with me you don’t have to.”

Abby’s shoulders dropped, right along with her mouth. “Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it. Fine. You both win.” Clarke smiled triumphantly over at her through another bite. Abby smiled though she shook her head. So that’s how the next five months were going to go? With Clarke and Marcus plotting and lining the floor around her with bubble wrap. She should have known. “I’ll deal with him later.”

With the jig up, Clarke told her, “Go easy on the poor guy. He’s just worried it might be too much on you.”

“Which is why I’ll only give him half the hard time I might normally,” she teased. She wasn’t really planning on giving him a hard time, even though it was a bit annoying for him to assume. But the gesture made by him and Clarke was enough for her to put her stubbornness aside. 

For the next little while, she and Clarke enjoyed lunch. Talking about Clarke’s classes and hers and when they finished she kissed her daughter goodbye and instead of heading home, drove to her other. The one downtown, with the handsome father of her child whose arms she'd been growing accustomed to waking in.

Upstairs, he had dinner ready for them, or as Octavia called it, brinner. Much to her surprise, the recipe they used downstairs for the french toast had been Marcus’ mothers, and he made it just as good if not better than the cooks’ downstairs. With those butter crispy edges, and hints of vanilla and cinnamon. It was delicious. As were the eggs he made to go with it and fruit that Octavia sliced. When dinner was over she felt well and truly spoiled and tired.

And when she made her way into the living room after having a long conversation with Diana in Marcus’ room, she found him reading on the couch smiling and patting the seat next to him when he spotted her. She went willingly, falling beside him softly and curling into his side ready for bed but not wanting their time spent together be with her sleeping all the time.

She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she let out a sigh. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a while?”

He couldn’t see it, but her eyes were already closed. But it was only after six and she still had to log into her classes and start uploading her online homework before classes started on Wednesday. But then again, she still had tomorrow and she was tired. “So what I'm just going to sleep and you're going to read?”

“Mmhm.”

She shouldn’t, but he was warm and smelled like laundry soap and faded cologne and did she mention warm? Still, with her eyes shut she protested, “I feel like I should be doing something.”

“You are doing something,” he told her and then sat them both fully up so he could turn and sit with his legs across the couch so she could lie between them and curl up against his chest. When she was settled, he kissed her, and said, “You're carrying our child.”

Laying her head on his chest, she sighed. “It must be a boy. Only a man could be this exhausting.”

He snorted. “Sure, only men… _She's_ probably restless and taking after her mother.”

That could be it too, she thought with a small smile. “You’re going to regret wishing for a girl with both mine and your DNA. She’ll be a handful.”

His chest vibrated under her cheek with his deep chuckle. “That’s the way I like them,” he teased and kissed her head again.

“You’re a glutton,” she murmured, sleepily.

“Probably,” he said, softly. “Sleep, Abby. I've got you both.”

With her eyes fluttering closed once again, she let the soft thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear lull her. But then just as she was about to drift off a sensation, a fluttering low in her belly had her eyes flying open. Was that? She waited. She could have been imagining it but… there it was! It happened again. “Marcus!”

“What?” he asked and must have picked up on her excitement mistaking it for something wrong because he sat up on alert. 

“Give me your hand.” With his hand in hers, she pushed herself back against him and he got the idea and moved back with her to where they were before while placing his hand over where she was feeling the movements. “I can feel the baby move.”

“What? Where?”

She frowned slightly thinking about how it had been weeks after she had started feeling Clarke before Jake could feel her movements too. “It’s still too early for you to feel it, but…” she trailed off tears filling her eyes, “I almost forgot how it felt.”

His hand moved out from under hers and slid under her shirt, back over the spot where she placed it before. Wrapping his other arm around her, he moved his face beside hers and in a murmur asked, “Are you crying?”

Her head shook softly. “No…” she lied.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, his voice now an intimate whisper.

“Like a butterfly, a fluttering sensation. Like…” She took his hand in hers and taped the gentlest taps on the back of his hand. “Something like that. In a few weeks, you’ll be able to feel it too.”

They sat there, with his hand on her belly and her enjoying the little flutter of movements until she started to feel sleepy again. 

But then came another whisper and this time it was almost, hesitant. “Can we... talk about something I’ve been wondering about lately? About us and the baby, what we’ll do once he or she is here.”

Turning sideways, she gazed up into his eyes that held a bit of uncertainty she hadn’t seen in them before. “What do you mean?”

She had a feeling she knew where this was going but wanted to be sure.

“I know we’re not at a point in our relationship where we would consider something more… permanent. But I was wondering maybe in the future if you saw that as a possibility?”

“Saw what?”

He laughed lightly and she smiled softly. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him. Not when it was too adorable to see him fumble. 

“Like the possibility of us living together.” 

“Here?” she asked because that was something she had been wondering about lately late at night while he slept beside her. His apartment was wonderful. Cozy and had room for her and the baby, but what about Clarke? She couldn’t just leave her. Not when she was starting college and finding her place in the world. 

It was with a sigh of relief when he suggested, “Here, your place… somewhere new that's just ours.”

Her heart knocked hard in her chest. 

_ Somewhere new that's just ours.   _

The idea of it was enough to make her smile. “That's definitely something we should discuss.”

But before either of them could get another word out, the sudden sound of the door slamming had her and his head whipping around. Octavia’s heavy footsteps followed quickly after. She only caught a glimpse of the young girl’s face but it was enough to see the redness in her eyes and wet cheeks.  

“Octavia?” Marcus asked.

“I don't want to talk about it!” she called jogging down the hall. The sound of her door slamming shut followed soon after.

He looked like he was about to go after her, but Abby put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Let me try and talk to her.”

He nodded. “All right. I’m going to lock up. I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

She took his hand, let him help her to her feet. In the weeks that had passed, she and Octavia had grown closer. The teenager was so much different than her own daughter, having grown up most of her life without a mother. A little rougher around the edges than Clarke but it only made Abby want to protect her more. 

Making her way down the hall, she knocked on Octavia’s door, and called, “Octavia, honey, can I come in?”

There were a few heartbeats before she heard Octavia’s voice say, “Yeah.” 

Opening the door to her room, Abby stepped inside and shut it behind her. Octavia was lying on her bed, her phone in her hand her eyes still a bit red from crying. Going over beside the bed, Abby took a seat on the edge facing the girl. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked. 

Octavia looked up, her eyes on the ceiling and sighed. “You’re just gonna be mad.”

Well, that wasn’t worrying at all, Abby thought wryly. But then again, Octavia was a teenager and really what could she have done that would make _her_ mad besides outside of getting a ticket in her father's car or getting into a physical fight with someone. Even then she wouldn’t say she’d be mad more concerned. “We’ll see about that.”

“So... maybe I asked him out.”

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

Well, hell. There was no need for her to ask her who she asked out because Abby knew. And damnit, she should have seen it coming. But judging by the red eyes and the slamming door she only needed one guess as to the outcome. “And what did he say?”

Her eyebrows shot up and Abby had to suppress a smile. Octavia hadn’t seen that coming. “He said he couldn't because I was too young.”

She took a deep breath, held Octavia’s eyes a moment before she replied, “He’s right, you are.”

“I _know_ , I just like him.” She took the pillow she had been cuddling against her chest and covered her face with it growling into it. Abby’s lips tipped up, remembering how dramatic her own teenage years were. A boy not returning the feelings you had for them was no less than devastating. Pulling the pillow from her face, Octavia went on, “I played pool with him the other night and it was fun. He’s not like the guys I go to school with. He’s mature and…”

Abby raised a brow at her. “And what?”

Octavia closed her eyes and groaned. “Ugh, I can’t talk to you about this cause you’re like… like a mom.”

“So?” She did smile this time. “You know, some mothers and daughters do talk about things like this.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So tell me about him.”

“He’s just so _hot_ , but you’ve seen him...”

Abby rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “I have, but let's try and leave the hormones out of this.”

“Ugh, see. I knew you’d go all mom on me.”

“Of course, I’m going to go all “mom” on you, but also as someone who was young once too, don’t let all that,” she paused and waved her hand in the air like he was standing between them, “That muscle he has to distract you and get you in a hurry. If he likes you, and I think he might, he can wait a year and a half to date you.”

Octavia grinned. “You think he likes me?”

Abby tilted her head to the side and let out a heavy breath. “Did you hear anything I happened to say before that?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get in a hurry.” Octavia sat up and crossed her legs. Her eyes no longer red from her tears but shining brightly. “But let’s get back to the liking me part. What makes you think that?”

“I can just see it, but what I also can tell you is there’s no way your father is going to allow you to date him.” God, she could just imagine his reaction and it wasn’t pretty. “Not yet anyway. Be friends with him, get to know him in the meantime.”

“I guess I could do that. But what if he dates someone else?” she asked and dropped her gaze to the floor. “There’s all those girls down there.”

“Is that what the slamming door was about?”

“Maybe.”

She reached over and put her hand over Octavia’s. “If he likes you, he’ll wait.”

“It's not like I haven’t done stuff... before.”

Abby sat up slightly taken aback by Octavia’s openness. She hadn’t been prepared at all for this conversation, but it was obvious Octavia needed this. Growing up without a mother there were probably only so many things she could talk to Marcus or even Echo about. That Octavia was opening up to her touched her and deepened the affection she already felt for her. 

She never wanted to replace her mother, but if Octavia wanted her to be that role model she was all too willing to step into that place for her. “And by stuff you mean?”

“I haven't gone all the way yet, but I’m not the kind of girl that’s going to wait to get married or something stupid like that.”

Abby clinked her tongue. “I can appreciate your honesty and knowing who you are... And as long as you’re being safe…” God, Marcus was going to kill her but what was there to be done? Lock her in her room? If she was determined to be sexually active there wasn’t much they could do to stop her. But Abby could at least make sure Octavia knew what a healthy, mature relationship was and how to take precautions. “Do we need to talk about the hows and whys behind why you are getting a new brother or sister?”

“You don’t have to have _the talk_ with me, Abby. I know about everything, and I’d rather not hear the details about you and Dad.”

“All right, but there are worse things out there than just getting pregnant. And Lincoln can get into trouble. A _lot_ of trouble. If you both like each other, a little over a year isn’t going to kill either of you. It just might add to the feelings you’re already feeling.”

Octavia groaned. “Says you. You and dad didn’t even wait until you were dating.”

Fair enough but… 

“Your father and I were friends and are also adults. We knew and accepted the consequences.” Octavia made a face. “We also cared about one another very much before we did what we did.”

“How am I supposed to be friends with him? I can hang out in the restaurant, play pool with him downstairs, but if dad’s not going to let me go out with him anywhere...”

“You could always spend supervised time here.”

“What about Dad?” Her brow furrowed. “You think he's going to like that?” 

“Probably not, but you leave your father to me.” With some finesse, she could probably get him used to the idea of them being friends. It was better to give her permission to hang out with him there where they could watch her because if they didn’t she’d only try and sneak around and that could lead to other things. She was damn sure Marcus wasn’t ready to be a father and a grandfather. Letting Octavia know that she was trusted would take some of that rebellion off her shoulders. “But you have to promise me, you’ll only be friends with him, for now.” 

“Fine. I’ll be friends with him.”

She tilted her head to make sure the young girl was looking her in the eyes. “Octavia, promise me.”

Octavia held up her hands. “All right, I promise.”

* * *

 

Almost a half an hour later, the door to his bedroom opened revealing his beautiful, pregnant girlfriend looking tired but at ease. Something that calmed his own nerves, but then there was also this look in her eyes like she had something to say only unsure where to begin. 

Octavia wasn’t prone to outbursts. But whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as he’d been imagining. A spat with a girlfriend, maybe… just Jesus Almighty, let it not be about a boy. Or his car. 

Great saints above, what if it was his car?

Setting his book aside, he raised an eyebrow at her. His mouth too dry to say a word. 

“We have a problem that you need to be aware of,” she started and held up a finger, “but I need you not to overreact or do something stupid.”

His gaze flew from her to the closed door she was standing in front of. His nerves on edge even more than they were. “All right...”

“Your daughter has a crush on a certain tattooed doorman.”

The air left his lungs in a rush. Jesus Christ, was that it? He thought he was about to have a heart attack. Collapsing back against the pillows he rubbed his eyes. All this over a crush? A crush he could handle. Though, a boy breaking his daughter’s heart was another. Then somehow his brain managed to catch up on Abby’s use of the word doorman and he realized she was talking about _his_ doorman. 

Dropping his hands, he blinked at her, and asked, “Lincoln?”

She must have decided he wasn't going to go marching out the door because she moved away from it and crossed the room while undoing the buttons of her blouse, drawing his gaze. “Yep.”

“She can’t…” he said, trailing off when said blouse was removed leaving her a black cotton bra. She had the most wonderful breasts. Catching her gaze that was on him, he cleared his throat. “He's older than her,” he finished, lamely. 

She stared at him, brows furrowed. “Really, Marcus?” She hooked her fingers around the hem of her slacks pulled them down and then off. The small curve of her belly made him smile despite their conversation. It thrilled him to no end and sent a proud punch straight to his heart seeing her carry his child. The tilt of her head and her lifted a brow at him pulled him once again from his musings. “Do you remember being young at all?”

“Vaguely,” he groused but then smiled as she took the book from his lap and tossed it on the nightstand. Pulling back the comforter, she then swiftly moving her leg over his to straddle him. He grasped her hips and watched as she bit her lower lip in response. “I forbid it. She’s a minor. Besides, I don’t know what she sees in that brooding, flippant attitude of his. And what’s with all those tattoos? Does he really think he’s going to get far in life looking like a hooligan?”

Her eyes rolled and she took his arm, fingertips tracing around his own tattoo. “And this?”

“This is nothing and easy to cover,” he said.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. Her smile soft and easy, but the mischievousness in her eyes told him they wouldn’t be going to bed anytime soon. He already felt himself stirring at the feel of her straddling his lap and the low sultry of her voice, that lowered even further when she told him, “Deny it all you will, Marcus Kane, but the simple fact is you’re not much different than he is.”

“How so?”

“Well, I am a bit younger than you, you have a tattoo, and let's face it, you were an intolerable, _brooding_ ass in the beginning.”

He snorted a laugh. Loving that she used his word.  “Admit it. You loved it.”

She made a face making him grin and grasp her hips moving over where he was already hard for her. “Oh yes, I could hardly keep myself from swooning.”

Her voice had gone breathless, and he knew then he had her. He reached up and cupped the back of her head, tangling his fingers into her hair and drew her down to him. “I wore you down eventually... and then you were like a moth to a flame,” he said, right before their lips met.

* * *

 

By the end of the week, Abby was thankful for the weekend. She made it through all of her classes easily enough and had to admit, driving with Clarke was a lot easier on her than driving herself. Although her daughter's bleary eyes and speed that morning slightly concerned her. But one quick stop at their neighborhoods coffee shop mostly cured her fatigue. At least well enough that when they got back into the car she was more alert than before.

At home for the night, Abby quickly made dinner from a recipe she found on Pinterest earlier that day, and with it in the oven went upstairs. She had almost an hour to kill and a bath sounded like heaven. She pulled up her hair while the warm water ran and placed her phone down on the floor beside the tub before sinking into its depths.

With a sigh, she rested back against the back of the tub. Let the warm water soothe her tired muscles and enjoyed the little fluttering that now came whenever she relaxed in the evening or just after she ate. Slipping her hand down across her belly she sighed again. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Clarke had gone out with Raven for the night and said she’d probably sleep over. Any other Friday she’d go and stay with Marcus, but knowing Octavia was with Luna for the night, she had other ideas. Reaching over the side of the tube, she took her phone from the floor, brought up his name and pressed send. 

His voice answered on the third ring and sounded mid-yawn. “Hey, there, babe.”

She grinned and let her head fall back against the smooth porcelain. “Hi. What are you doing?”

“Finishing up the schedules for the next two weeks.”

“Ah, fun.”

“Hardly. What are you up to?”

“Nothing just taking a bath.” She sank further under the water. “Thinking of you.”

She heard him groan softly. “Well, now all I’m going to be able to think of is you in the bath, but what exactly were you thinking about?”

“Well, Clarke is out tonight. I remember you saying Octavia was staying with Luna... I thought maybe you could come over here tonight. I made vegetarian enchiladas we could share and watch one of your bad sci-fi movies.”

He hummed. “Sounds like a good way to spend the night to me. Let me finish these up and let Octavia know I’ll be out for the night and I’ll be right over. Is there anything I need to bring?”

“Just yourself.”

He chuckled. “I can do that.”

Later that night, after meals had been eaten and a movie put in, Abby laid back against the couch with Marcus beside her.

She really loved kissing Marcus Kane. Really really loved it. Maybe it was how equally passionate and gentle he could be, maybe it was his grown-out beard and how she loved rubbing her thumbs across it and the way it felt on her skin, or maybe it was just they were just really really good at it. 

Whatever it was, he could kiss her for the rest of the night as far as she was concerned. 

“I thought we were watching a movie?” he mumbled against her lips.

“We are,” she breathed, “it’s on isn’t it?”

He chuckled against her lips, and she giggled. She wasn't a giggler. This was ridiculous. They had sex all the time. Her only thought shouldn’t be how soon she could get him inside her, but it was. She blamed her pregnancy. Her hormones. The way he looked in his jeans and the way his shirt fit oh so nicely around his arms and chest. And that Goddamn beard of his that prickled against her skin and fingertips. If he wasn’t so irresistible, maybe she could watch a movie or do her homework… or control herself for ten minutes. 

His hand slid up her side and around to cup her breast… God, to hell with it all. She hummed and arched into his touch, and he, in turn, groaned. 

The only light in the room came from the television, and the only sounds came from the movie, their soft groans and the slide of hands against skin. So it was a complete surprise when the next thing they knew they heard the sounds of voices and then gasps of surprise when Clarke came stumbling into the living room wrapped around a girl Abby had never seen. 

“Oh, hey… Mom!” Clarke looked between her and the girl beside her to the television. “I thought… I thought you were going to his place tonight.”

She and Marcus sat up, quickly. Mortified. Absolutely mortified. She was going to have to move in with Marcus now because not only did her daughter just catch _her_ with her boyfriend’s hand up her shirt, but _she_ just caught her daughter making out with someone too. 

Straightening her shirt as surreptitiously as she could, she said, “I decided to invite Marcus to stay here.”

Abby’s gaze slid over to him. He was looking down, his lips pressed together tightly threatening to pull their way up. Traitor. 

The room filled with a heavy, awkward silence and then finally, Clarke said, “Mom, Marcus, this is Lexa.”

Lexa looked from her to Marcus and back. “Clarke’s told me much about you both. It’s nice to meet you.”

So this was Lexa, Abby thought. “You too, Lexa.”

Clarke smiled, though it came out rather strained. “We’re just... gonna go up to my room.” There was another awkward pause then Clarke took Lexa by the hand and led her from the room calling, “Good night,” over her shoulder. 

“Good night,” she and Marcus chimed simultaneously. 

He sat back, and she followed. Neither of them spoke for long moments until Marcus broke the silence. “Didn’t you tell me they weren’t getting along?”

Abby covered her face with her hands. “I thought so… She said things between them were better. I just didn’t know they were _that_ much better.” Dropping her hands, she turned, inclining her body towards Marcus. “My God, Marcus did that really just happen?”

He nodded. That smile of his finally breaking through. “It did. And I’d say they’re getting along fine now.”

“Clearly,” she mumbled.

His eyes narrowed perceptively. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a surprise is all.” Understatement, she thought. “Do you think this thing with Lexa could be why she broke up with Finn?”

“Could be,” he began then called out the elephant left in the room, “Did you ever suspect she was attracted to women?”

“No, I…” she paused and thought about that. There were those occasional comments that came when they watched a movie or when Clarke saw someone on her Instagram, but for every, _I’m gay for her,_ even she would look at the picture and well… agree. She always thought Clarke was kidding, and she told him as much. “Am I a bad mother for never realizing this about my daughter? For dismissing these little comments all this time?”

He shook his head. “No, of course, you’re not.”

“She’s always been with Finn and… don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for her, and I would have been had I known…” She dropped her head against the back of the couch. “Do you think she was keeping it from me because she was scared of my reaction?”

Angling himself toward her, he put his elbow near her head dropped his head in hand. “I don’t think so, no. I know I haven’t been with you both long, but I can't see her keeping such an important part of her life from you. If it’s something that’s new for her perhaps she hadn’t got around to telling you about it yet, kind of like we did.”

“Maybe so.”

“She’ll talk to you about it. Definitely, now that we’ve seen what we have.” She groaned and he chuckled. “It’ll be okay. Hey, at least we all caught in the act.”

She rolled her eyes. That was of little comfort. “From now on we watch the movies upstairs.”

“But it’s so comfy here.” Leaning forward he pressed his lips sweetly against hers, and then another and another. She made no protest when the last one lingered, or when his tongue found hers, or when they continued to once again ignore the movie. 

* * *

 

He let her sleep in that morning. Resisted the urge to wake her with kisses to her lips and caresses over her growing belly. She was such a light sleeper as it was. But he was awake and knew his restlessness would wake her so he slipped from the bed and made his way downstairs, in need of coffee.

Phone in hand, he frowned down at the newest texts from Roan. Pike had once again been by late last night, and Marcus had been given thirty days to install a separate fire alarm system from the top floor as the second floor was a dwelling and not a part of the business. Marcus cursed. That great bastard couldn’t get at the pub, so he was going for his home.

With a shake of his head, he cursed again under his breath. It was a good thing he hadn't been there. He’d have told the bastard where he could stick his thirty days and most likely spent the night in jail. That'd have been wonderful. He could see himself calling Abby to come bail him out...

“Good morning.”

Marcus came to a stop. In the kitchen sat Lexa. She sat straight-backed at the kitchen table with a coffee cup sitting in front of her. She had no phone, no nothing. Just coffee. “Oh, good morning,” he replied and looked around. “Where’s Clarke?”

“Sleeping. I didn’t wish to wake her, so I came downstairs. I hope you do not mind I made coffee.”

He smiled. Seemed he and Lexa had the same idea. “I came downstairs for the same reason. And don’t worry, Abby and Clarke certainly won’t mind.”

“It’s my understanding you and Abby have only been together a short time.”

He stared at her. If you called almost three months short, then all right. Five if you counted from the time they were first together. “I suppose that would be correct.”

“But you’ve known Clarke a while?”

What a curious question, he thought while turning to grab a coffee cup from the cupboard nearest the coffee pot. “I have,” he said pouring a cup, “Not like I think you’re thinking, but I knew her before I got together with her mother and was good friends with her father.”

“Has she always been happy?”

He had raised the coffee to his lips but paused before taking a drink. “As far as I know, yes.” And he thought Luna was strange. Where Luna was subdued, Lexa seemed to be very formal. He wasn’t sure which he found odder. But then maybe she was just nervous about meeting Clarke’s family. He raised his cup and took a drink, frowning when Abby appeared, walking into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” she said, eyes on him making her way sleepily across the tiled floor. 

“Good morning,” he replied. She stopped in front of him, and he dipped his head to kiss her. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.” 

She started to raise up onto her toes intent on another kiss that he was all too happy to give her but was sure she hadn’t noticed Lexa and well… “Lexa and I were just talking.” Her eyes opened and his eyes slid from her and over to the table. “Clarke’s still sleeping.”

She pressed her lips together a brilliant rosy dust of pink tinged her cheeks right before she turned and smiled. “Good morning, Lexa.”

“Good morning, Miss Griffin.” She inclined her head at Abby, and Marcus busied himself with making Abby coffee. “Clarke tells me you're pregnant.” 

Abby chuckled and ran her hand over her stomach. The tee shirt she wore slightly stretched against the curve of her belly. “I should hope so or this should be concerning.” 

“One should never assume.”

“That’s very true.” 

“Are you excited?”

Marcus handed Abby her cup, and it was only then he noticed both sets of eyes were on him. The question had been for him. “Oh, me. Yes, I'm looking forward to it immensely.”

“Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?” 

“We’ll find out in a few weeks,” Abby answered.

“Do you have a preference?”

Another question for him. All right. He cleared his throat. “No, not at all. Though, I think it's a girl. But Abby doesn't agree.”

Abby's gaze turned to him. “I never said that. You assumed, but I never said I didn't agree.”

He set his cup on the counter and leaned against it. A smile pulling his lips up and up. So she did think it was a girl then. “Do you agree?” 

“I feel like it might be.”

Warmth flooded through his chest. When he pictured their child, she was always a girl. She had her mother’s nose and chin. A little defiant thing, just like her mother. “Really?”

She nodded and this time he didn’t care that Lexa was watching he leaned down and took her lips with his. The kiss lingered but only until Lexa’s voice filled the room again.

“Do you have a name picked out?”

They moved away from one another with guilty smiles and it was he who answered, “We haven't discussed names quite yet.”

“I've always been partial to Evelyn.”

Abby turned to face Lexa but leaned against him and he rested his hand on her hip. “It's a pretty name,” Abby told her.

“You can use it if you want.”

“I think we might think of a few more before deciding but thank you.” 

Another stoic nod. “You're welcome.”

“Tell us about you, Lexa,” he said, not necessarily wanting the attention from them but curious to know the girl dating his… girlfriend’s daughter. Maybe more in the future. 

“I was born and raised in Seattle. I have two younger brothers and one older sister that I don’t speak to. My parents are both deceased and I, apart from working with Clarke, teach self-defense at Combat Arts Academy.”

“That’s…” Abby paused. “Combat Arts?”

Lexa reached for her cup and nodded. “I could teach you. Once you are no longer with child.”

He really had to fight from smiling. Between imagining Abby taking a combat arts class and her, _“I just might think about that,”_ as a reply, he just about lost it.

“I could show you some moves that you can do safely while pregnant.”

“You know, I think I’m okay.” He felt Abby tap her hand against his before saying, “I have this guy here to protect me.”

Lexa arched a brow. Her gaze giving him a once over seemingly unimpressed. He glowered at her. “A few simple moves an I can easily take him down to the floor with little effort, but if you ever change your mind.”

“I’ll know just where to go,” Abby told the young girl then turned to him.

“So breakfast?” The corners up his lips twitched at the way her eyes shone with mirth. It was clear she was feeling the same amusement from this odd conversation as he.

Taking her cup of coffee from the counter, she hid her own smile behind it and murmured, “Yes, please.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right lovelies, you've had all the fluff, and now I'm about to throw some angst feels at you. Gonna try to anyway, lol so prepare thy heart.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it angst? Is it fluff? You tell me.

September had come before they knew it and with it, the return of lower temperatures, mostly cloudy days, and mid-morning showers. It reminded him a lot of home. But the nostalgia he felt for that home never lasted long. Not when his father’s death that came on the eve of Marcus’ eighth birthday still hovered over him like a heavy, dark cloud and his mother’s fanatical turn to religion which she dragged him quite literally kicking and screaming into dominated his life until he was old enough to get away.

But when those sort of thoughts came to him, he’d push them aside and focus on the here and now. Which as of late, was a hell of a lot better.  

The nearing end of summer also brought a new sort of normalcy. Bellamy was back in college. Octavia had just started her first week of her junior year, and for him and Abby, life moved into an unsaid routine. He and Octavia spent the weekends with her and the weekdays at home with him. Which he preferred because the farther along Abby got, the less he wanted to leave her. She accused him of coddling her, and to a point, he agreed, but it didn’t stop him. The simple truth was he wanted to be there for it all. There at night to rub her feet, to make her dinner, and there to see her face light up and her hand fall to her belly when she felt their child move.

He was crazy in love with her and to him, it didn't matter where they were. His place or hers. Just as long as they were together. If only he could summon up the balls to tell her that.

And he could. She was just feet away from him in the shower.

“Three-thirty, right?” he asked, knowing the answer just needing to talk and that being the only thing that had come to him.

“What?”

“Today.” He turned away from the mirror and leaned back against the counter crossing his arms across his chest. Her silhouette shown through the foggy glass. “I’m picking you up at three-thirty.”

“Yes,” she said then suddenly the door to the shower opened, and there she was in all that naked glory. Her bump now a proper bump. Completely unmistakable no matter what she wore. “Is something wrong?”

“No, why would it be?”

She studied him a moment before she said, “We’ve had this appointment for weeks and talked about it last night  _ and  _ earlier this morning. Her eyes held his, a look of concern reflecting in them. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not your nothing face,” she replied with a disbelieving look. Jesus how transparent was he? First Indra, now her. She tilted her head towards the shower. “Get in here.”

His lips twitched up. “You said a shower together would take too long.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”

He stripped down quickly enough and stepped under the spray. She wrapped her arms around his middle, and he turned them so they could share the water coming down.

“What is it?” she asked, softly.

He sighed and rested his hands on her hips, tugging her the few inches that separated them so that he felt her belly pressing into his. “I like having you here.”

She laughed. “Say it like you mean it.”

He huffed out his own chuckle. “No, I do. I  _ really  _ do.” He ran his hands up and down her bare back. “I’m just terrible at this sort of thing.”

He’d told only one other woman he loved her, (well besides his mum, his daughter, and Rose Marie when he was six) and look how well that had all turned out. He didn’t want to ruin this by saying it too soon. Certainly not by blurting it out in the shower. She deserved to hear it somewhere far more romantic after he’d given her roses and lit candles, and well, not wine because of their little surprise. But maybe one of those flavored sparkling waters she loved so much but also hated drinking around him because they made her burp and him laugh at the look on her face.

The smile she gave him once again was soft and loving. “You’re better than you think. How about tonight you and I sit down together and talk about us and what we want to do?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, it’s long overdue.” Her arms came up and wrapped around his shoulders, her hands threading together around his neck.

He shrugged. “It’s not your fault we’ve been busy.”

“We have,” she agreed, “but it’s time to set aside a night for us.”

His heart clenched. Jesus, he loved her.

“Can’t wait,” he told her and leaned down to take her lips with his. She hummed against them, and he dropped his hands down from her hips to grope her arse.

She chuckled into their kiss then pulled away. “This is why I said no the first time. You have no control.”

Her hands then slid down his chest and did some wandering of her own. He moaned feeling her take him in hand. “It’s not just me though,” he murmured, shutting his eyes trying to swallow down a groan.

“I never said it was,” she said placing a kiss on his neck. 

An hour later, they were dressed and all standing in the kitchen. He poured himself another cup of coffee while he texted with Indra. He watched Abby finish off her toast topped with peanut butter and banana slices as she read over Octavia’s English homework assignment with a slight frown.

“It’s crap isn’t it?” Octavia said through a bite of granola cereal. “A five-page paper  _ and  _ a three-minute PowerPoint.”

Abby looked over at his daughter, and setting the paper on the counter, said, “I agree it’s a little… excessive.”

“And it has to be done by Monday.  _ Monday _ .”

Abby went over to where Marcus stood with her empty coffee cup in hand giving him a look. But he took the cup and shook his head. She switched to decaf recently, and while he sympathized with her, she told him under no circumstances was he to let her drink the real stuff and that’s what he planned to do. She frowned at him and took his cup from his hands taking a drink from it. 

He gave her a disappointed frown but then chuckled at her grimace. Black coffee wasn’t her thing, and that’ll teach her for trying to steal his. She gave his coffee back to him with a dark look of her own and he quickly stole a kiss or two. 

Now smiling, to Octavia, she said, “All right, so pick your hero movie and we’ll figure it out this weekend.”

Octavia’s head shot up at that. “Wait, you’ll help me?”

“Sure, I’ll have my own homework to do anyway.”

“Ah, yes! Thank you, Abby.”

He and Abby shared a smile before she told Octavia, “I said help you figure it out, not write it for you.”

Octavia gave her a half-hearted, playful roll of her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“How are classes, Bellamy?” Abby asked walking back over to the counter beside Octavia and taking the last bite of her toast.

His son gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, making Marcus’ brow furrow in concern. When his son had come over that morning he’d been in a mood, quiet. Contemplative. Marcus meant to ask what had been wrong, but Octavia had come into the room and started chatting away and not long after that Abby had as well.

“They’re all right,” his son said, going back to his own bowl of cereal.

Octavia changed the subject then, asking, “Are you going to get more pictures of the baby today?”

Abby smiled at her. “We will.”

His daughter groaned. “I wish I could go.”

She had asked the night before, and while they appreciated her enthusiasm, this appointment would be the one where they found out if they were having a boy or a girl. And for this they wanted it to be just them. Not to mention letting Octavia go would mean pulling her from classes to do so.

“We’d let you,” he said, but reminding, “but it's your first week of school.”

“Your father's right,” Abby said, reaching out and patting her back. “If I have another later, you can go to that one.”

“But you’re finding out what it is,” Octavia whined. “Ugh, it's not fair.”

Abby smiled. “Next time.”

“Next baby?” Octavia quipped with a grin.

He about choked on his coffee at the look on Abby’s face.

“Very funny.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy began, his tone cold, “hey, who knows, you might be able to give him his own  _ real  _ son and you can all be one big happy family.” His words were said with all the petulance of a child and not of a grown man.

The room grew silent as all eyes fell on his son. Marcus blinked at him, wondering if he had actually heard the boy right but it was Abby’s fallen face that confirmed he hadn’t misheard him. Marcus opened his mouth to ask his son what the fuck he had been thinking saying something like that to her, but Octavia beat him to it.

“Jesus, Bell, how old are you?” she asked her brother, with a glare from across the island.

Abby took her plate to the sink, her eyes not meeting his or anyone’s for that matter. “I'm going to go finish getting ready. Clarke, she should be downstairs soon.”

“Abby-" Octavia began, but even his daughter’s soft voice didn’t stop her.

Marcus eyed his son, and thankfully for him, he had the good grace to look like he regretted the words that came from his mouth.

Taking a step toward him, his voice was a low whisper, “I don’t know what the hell that was about, Bellamy, but it was completely uncalled for.”

* * *

 

A few moments after she had escaped into Marcus’ bathroom, he was there. The door closing behind him right before he was beside her. His hand fell on her back rubbing soothing circles that had her pressing her hands to the cold marble countertop.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “I'm sorry, I don't know why I left.”

She did. And so, did he. The comment shouldn’t have hurt her feelings as much as it did. Of course, Bellamy had a right to be upset. She felt the kids’ reaction to her pregnancy had been too easy, too accepting. It was a shock, and, in a way, she could understand. Even so, tears prickled behind her eyelids.

“Hey hey, come here.  _ I’m _ the one who's sorry.” His voice was an apologetic whisper in her ear.

She let him pull her against him. “It’s fine, Marcus. It’s the way he feels…” she trailed off swallowing past the tightness in her throat.

He pulled away only far enough so he could look down at her. His face serious as he said, “I don’t give a damn if that’s the way he feels he shouldn't have said that…  Not to you.” He exhaled slowly, and added, “If he felt that way, he should have talked to me.”

“What if it  _ is _ a boy, Marcus?”

Tears began to fall down her cheeks and he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “Abby, listen to me. Our baby, whether it be a boy or a girl, will be loved... by everyone. Even Bellamy. What he said was meant to hurt me. Something he and I obviously need to work on and has been an issue longer than this. Don’t let words said only to hurt me ruin this day. Besides, I’m still sure our baby’s a girl.”

“And if we're wrong?” she somehow managed to say, her heart breaking, wondering how she hadn’t seen it. First Clarke, now Bellamy. What else had she missed? What kind of mother was she?

His eyes never leave hers, his voice never wavered, and it was filled with confidence when he said, “If we're wrong, we're wrong. And we're still going to be happy and Bellamy will get over whatever is in his head.”

She sniffed and nodded and tried to wipe away the wetness from her cheeks even as the tears continued to fall.

“I need to get ready to go,” she said, dropping her head, her gaze falling between them to her belly as she ran her hand over it. What else will she miss with this one? The thought alone is enough to have her pressing her lips together tightly to fight the sob that threatened to break through.

He nodded again and said, “All right. When you’re ready, I’ll walk you down.” But then his hand rose, and she felt his knuckle under her chin. She lifted her head seeing the apology in his gaze. His face fell. She couldn’t hide her heartache from him, so she didn’t try. “Abby… Come here.”

“I’m fine, Marcus,” she said, but let herself fall back into his embrace feeling an overwhelming pull to him. “It’s just these stupid hormones.”

“They don’t help, I agree, but he shouldn’t have said what he did, and you’re allowed to be hurt by it.” He pressed a kiss to her head, “I know I am.”

She closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him. Allowing herself to feel hurt another few moments then figure out how they would fix it.

* * *

 

Somehow, she managed to get through her classes without thinking about the morning. Every time her mind even swayed in the direction of it, she would distract herself with texting Clarke or Marcus, chat with Jackson, or open a book and read. Anything she could do to keep from second-guessing herself and the choices she and Marcus had made.

She realized once she’d calmed down, he’d been right. The comment was made from a place that was between Bellamy and his father. And while it didn’t make it hurt any less, it changed nothing. They were together, they were having a baby.

It was up to Marcus and Bellamy to work out what prompted his words.   

When three o’clock came, he picked her up from school with a bouquet of pink roses in his hands that made her smile and cry...  _ again _ . He took her in his arms and whispered his hello, and for a while, they stood in the middle of the medical sciences building holding one another and mostly ignoring the  _ awws  _ and looks from all around them.

They didn’t speak much on the way to see Diana. And while they waited in the waiting room they held hands and she leaned against him. Fingers threaded together opening and splaying, providing comfort they both needed that words couldn’t express.

There wasn’t any more to say about it only move past it.

When they were called to the back, she went through the usual routine. Weight, blood pressure, and pee in a cup. She was really looking forward to being done with the last. The nurse left them with an assurance Diana wouldn’t be too long and left them in the room together.

He had been sitting in a chair away from the bed while she got her blood pressure taken, but as soon as the door was shut she reached out a hand.

He smiled and went over to her. Again, neither spoke. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her with the gentlest of kisses before placing his hand on her belly. Dropping his brow against hers, they stayed like that until they heard Diana’s knock on the door.

“Hey, there are my two favorite parents.” Diana’s face brightened stepping into the room. “How are you both?”

“Good,” she said but it came out as more of a sigh.

Diana who had set down her iPad on the counter turned to them. Her brow creased. “Just good?”

Marcus let out his own heavy breath but managed a small smile. “It’s been a long day for the both of us.”

“Uh oh, nothing serious, I hope.” Her eyes looked at her and then narrowed at him. “No trouble in paradise?”

“Paradise is fine,” Marcus assured. “It’s paradise's children who are being difficult. Nothing we can’t get through.”

She frowned at that and her next words held warning, “Well, I hope so. Anyone who stresses out my momma and baby has to go through me.”

“I’m fine,” Abby said doing her best to smile because she was. She was just so tired.

Diana, however, wasn’t buying it. As long as they’d been friends there wasn’t much either one of them could get by the other. “Hmm, that remains to be seen. Expect a phone call from me tonight.”

She chuckled. “I was already counting on it.”

Diana took her iPad back from the counter. Tapping it here and there before passing it over to her for her to see. Weight, blood pressure, urinalysis all normal. “All right, everything looks good. Just need one last ultrasound.”

“Sounds good,” she said handing the device back to Diana.

The doctor smirked. “Normally, Nyko would do it, but this is my baby and I had a canceled appointment, so I’m taking over.”

She and Marcus shared a smile, and they followed Diana out of the room and down the hall to the room she had her sonogram with Nyko. Marcus held out a hand and she stepped up on the table. Her nerves now starting to pick up. What if they were wrong? What if they were having a boy and what if their son brought a wedge between Marcus and Bellamy? How horrible would that be for him? For a little boy who did nothing but be brought into the world by his irresponsible parents. A stab of guilt flooded through her chest.

Damnit, she was going to cry again. Yet another thing she was tired of.

“Any concerns while I get this ready?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “None that I can't think of.”

“Okay, so what about the sex?”

“It’s been great, thanks,” Marcus said, and her gaze flew to his. She thought he’d been joking, but the look on his face was too serious, and too distracted by the screen he hadn’t even noticed hers and Diana’s eyes on him.

Diana’s brows rose, and she grinned, clearly pleased with his response. “I was talking about the sex of the _baby,_ although I'm happy to hear you both aren't afraid to get busy. Still finding out today?”

Marcus’ cheeks tinged a slight pink. She smiled, momentarily distracted by his adorable, embarrassed blunder and reached out a hand and took his. “Yes, we want to know.”

“You're sure?” she asked, giving one last warning while rubbing the instrument over the gel she’d poured on her belly.

Marcus looked over at her. “We’re sure.”

“All right, here we go,” Diana began.

Marcus pulled  a chair up to the bedside and retook her hand. “Wow, look at how much bigger she’s gotten.”

“She, hm?” Diana asked.

He grinned at her. “We think so.”

“Let's just see about that,” Diana said. Abby swallowed and turned her head towards the screen. Tried to ignore the swirl of emotions making her feel sick. Please, let them be right, she thought, and then Diana's smile split into two right before she told them, “Well, congratulations, parents. You have a healthy baby girl. She’s measuring a little small but nothing to worry about. She’s gonna be like her momma.”

“What’s she measuring at?” she asked, her voice tight.

“About a week behind.”

“And that’s not a concern? “ Marcus asked, and she tightened her hand around his.

“Not at all. It happens. She could have a growth spurt next week and measure ahead. Like I said, nothing to worry about. She just wants to be like her momma. Sorry, Daddy, don’t take it personally.” 

Diana winked at her and Abby smiled. There it was. They really were having a girl. She couldn’t hold it back; her tears broke through and then next thing she knew her hands were covering her face and her shoulders shaking with her sobs. 

She felt Diana’s hand on her shoulder and then her voice say, “You know, why don't I give you two a second. I’ll come back in a few minutes and we’ll finish this up.”

With the sound of the door being opened and closed, she felt Marcus ease her gently into a sitting position and he held her for long moments until her tears calmed.

“See, what did I tell you,” he whispered into her ear after a minute. She looked up, found his smile as bright as his eyes and he dropped a kiss to her lips. One that lingered, and she raised her hand cupping the back of his head to keep him from leaving too soon. When he finally did draw back, he bumped his nose lightly against hers and said, “The next one will be a boy.”

She let out a wet laugh and shook her head. Only him. “So now we’re having more?”

“One more couldn’t hurt.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes soft, loving as he took her in. “You know, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been waiting for the right time, thinking that it was too soon, that you may need more time, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.” Her heart began to pound and her breath caught in her chest knowing what was coming. He was going to say it. He was going to say the words she’d been thinking in her head and feeling in her heart for a long while now. And God, how she wanted to hear them. “I love you, Abby. I'm so in love with you and have been for longer than I should have.”

Her reply came easily, as if the words had been on the tip of her tongue for maybe just as long. “I love you, too Marcus. So much.” Tears were falling down her cheeks, this time for a whole different reason and she didn’t care. Not after all that. But she smiled through them as she told him, “But if you think for a second I'm having more than  _ two… _ ”

“ _ Our _ two?” he interrupted with a crooked smile.

She rolled her eyes but reached up for him, hand weaving through his dark hair pulling him down to her. “God, you're terrible. Just shut up and kiss me, Kane.”

He chuckled and mumbled into their kiss, “Glady.”

* * *

 

He couldn’t sleep. Not that it was late, it wasn’t. After dinner, he and Abby went into his room, intent on that talk but ended up just holding one another. Abby fell asleep not long after and for a while he thought he might be able to fall asleep too, but then Bellamy’s words came back to him from earlier that day and there was no hope of sleep coming anytime soon. He was able to ease himself from her without waking her and told Octavia he’d be downstairs.

There were things to be done. He might as well busy his mind with them than fret over his son’s comment.

But as things did that day, that didn’t quite work out for him. He spent a good portion of his time  answering emails from various charities wondering what he had done or hadn’t done to deserve such a thing. Had he not been there for Bellamy? Had he been too strict or unfair? Should he have fought Aurora harder? Gone after them sooner?

He took in Bellamy because he loved him just as much as if he would his very own. Made it a priority that Bellamy wanted for nothing. He may have made Bellamy work for things, to give the boy a good work ethic and sense of responsibility, but he never went to bed hungry and never had anything less than a brand name on his back.

Marcus tossed the stress ball he’d been gripping for the last hour against the wall catching it easily. With his eyes on the blue object, he wondered if that was it. Maybe he’d spoiled him? Maybe he gave him too much, thinking that Bellamy and Octavia would be it?

He gripped the ball in his palm and shook his head. Whatever the reason, he knew he didn’t raise his son to be so disrespectful.

“Hey…” Marcus tensed. He knew that voice and swiveled in his chair.  Bellamy stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, looking like if he were to step over the threshold the ceiling would cave in on him. “I thought I’d come by and...”

“What? Apologize?” He tossed the ball on his desk and got to his feet. “I hope so because you need to. To me but particularly to Abby.”

He nodded, and his eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Where is she?”

“She's upstairs asleep.” He let out a long sigh. “She had a long day what with classes starting and everything. I’m not going to wake her.”

“Dad…” Bellamy began but then trailed off, and looked away.

“It’s a girl, by the way,” Marcus said, wanting to clear a few things up before his son said anything more. Bellamy looked up, and he held his gaze as he continued, “Just so you know. And we're ecstatic about it, just like we would have been if it had been a boy.”

“Look, I'm sorry,” he began but the moment his words came out, the moment those words were said with a tone of impatience Marcus put a stop to them.

“Was it something I did?” he asked, voice rising. “Because the son I know wouldn't have said something like that. Maybe to me but not to Abby. Did I not do enough? Not tell you I love you or show that I cared? I thought I did a good job. Not a great one but good enough one.”

His son’s shoulders fell. “You did more than enough.”

“Then why?” he asked but this time without the anger he had moments before.  

“I don't know…” Bellamy trailed off, but Marcus wasn’t going to accept that. He stood there, folding his arms across his chest waiting for the answer he was owed. “I was... It was a stupid thing to say.”

He scoffed, and it was a light sad thing. “Yes, it was.”

“There you are!” the voice of his daughter called out. Bellamy turned, stepped out into the hall and Marcus followed. Octavia was dressed in her pajamas. Had probably come down to tell him goodnight. There was a fire in her eyes for her brother, one he hadn’t seen before. “That was a shit thing you did!”

Bellamy looked down at his shoes. “I know, O.”

“I don't think you do,” Octavia went on her voice rising with each and every word. “You took this day from her, from her  _ and _ from dad and why? Because you might not have gotten all of dad’s attention? You wouldn't have been the only son?”

“Octavia-” Marcus began.

But Octavia shook her head and pointed her finger at her brother. “No, he doesn't get to say he's sorry, and that’s it. It was a dick move and he should know how bad he made her feel.” Tears gathered and fell down her cheeks making his chest tighten painfully. “I swear to God, Bell, if you don't tell her you're sorry and  _ mean  _ it, if she leaves because of you, I won't forgive you.”

Octavia turned and ran up the stairs. 

“Octavia!” he called after her moving over to look up after her. Thankfully, the restaurant was empty, and only a few patrons from the bar side might be able to hear him if they cared at all.

“Dad just let her go.”

“You don't have to worry, Abby's not going anywhere. Your sister’s just scared…”

“That Abby will leave like Mom?” Bellamy interrupted. His tone hard and held a tinge of his own hurt. “Yeah, I got that.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed he was a bit too optimistic everyone would be as accepting of their new addition. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to give a good goddamn about Bellamy’s attitude at the moment. “I'm going upstairs, I'm tired too.”

“Dad, I am sorry.”

He paused and turned towards his son. His eyes reflected his remorse, and it made the knot in his chest since the comment was made loosen. But it was still said and there was nothing that could be done to take it back. Deep down there was a part of Bellamy who didn’t see himself as his son and it brought with it nothing but sadness, and a feeling that he should have done better.

He believed Bellamy was sorry, and accepted it, however, he wasn’t the only one hurt by the comment. “I know, but I'm not the one who needs to hear it.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Thank you for doing this.”

Abby scrunched her nose up at him. “Thank you for spending the night with your daughter? Something I’d be doing here with you anyway?”

“While that may be, I appreciate you being here for her.”

“Marcus, you're going to be gone one night. Go put out your fire. We’ll be fine.”

His fire. He wished it wasn’t literally a fire, but it was. Three teens in Portland got bored and decided they would set fire to the business behind his pub. Unfortunately, it didn't stop there. It spread to the next building and the next. His establishment had been spared, but the damage to the block was extensive and power and gas had been shut off for two days now. Indra had been handling things just fine on her own but he wanted to be there when things came back on.

“Yeah, Dad,” Octavia called from the couch, “we’re gonna order pizza and watch movies. Well okay, _I’m_ going to watch movies... Abby’s going to fall asleep.”

His lips pulled up, knowing it was likely to be true. “Take care of her,” he told his daughter.

Octavia made a face. “Duh.”

His gaze drifted back down to Abby, and he let out a breath. Why was leaving bothering him so much? It wasn’t like they hadn’t spent time apart. Not like she didn’t go home and stay with Clarke once in a while.

There was just something he felt that he couldn’t name making him feel anxious. “One night,” he repeated, needing to hear it again."

Go and get back and then maybe when you get back we can talk... houses?”

His lips pulled back up remembering their conversation almost a week ago now.

_He’d been woken up at nearly two in the morning with her pressed against him, dropping kiss after kiss on his lips and between each kiss whispered, “I think we should have our own place.”_

_The fog of sleep had a hold on him so it’d taken him a good minute to wake up before he understood what she was talking about._

_“A place with room for everyone.”_

_He hummed against her lips. “And where would you like this place to be?”_

_“Maybe someplace between your work and mine?”_

_“Sensible,” he’d murmured right before he felt the soft brush of her lips on his again.”I’ll find us a realtor.”_

_“You do that,” she had said and well, for the next little while all talk of houses had ceased._

“Apartments?” he teased already knowing the answer.

“Suburbs,” she countered with a firm nod.

With a raised brow, he challenged, “City?”

She shook her head and chuckled, grabbed him by the shirt to pull him down and kiss him quickly before giving him a light shove away from her. “Go.”

He laughed catching her hand in his and tugging her back to him. “I love you.”

"I love you, too.”

They met for one last soft, lingering kiss, and it was with a resigned sigh he left her.

Downstairs, his Uber driver pulled up right on time. He was a younger man with dark-blonde hair and South African accent. Twenty minutes into their drive to the airport, a soft ding of his phone had him looking down. He smiled automatically thinking the message was from Abby but frowned down at the all too familiar number that popped up.

_I really don’t understand why you won’t answer me._

He let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

CeCe.

He thought this had all ended. Perhaps he should have listened to his kids and changed his number all those months ago. But doing so involved informing too many people of the change and it was just easier to erase the messages as they came. But clearly, she wasn’t taking the hint.

“Something wrong?” his driver asked.

Marcus raised his head and met the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “No, not really. Just someone who won’t stop sending me messages.”

“Ah,” the man started, “an ex?”

A derisive snort left him. He looked out the window and muttered, “She thinks so.”

“Man, hear that.” The guy glanced back and added, “Dude, you’ve got an iPhone. You know you can just block the number, right?”

Marcus’ brows furrowed together. Could he? Why the hell hadn’t anyone told him this? “Really?”

The driver turned toward him, and Marcus felt the urge to tell the man just to pay attention to the road, but they had come to a stop at a red light and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, just hit the little i up at the top corner and scroll to the bottom where it says block caller.”

He did as instructed and to his surprise at the bottom, there it was. The magic button to solve the CeCe problem. “I’ll be damned. Thanks.”

“Anytime. You know what they say, bitches be crazy.”

He chuckled softly. It wasn’t a sentiment he would normally agree with but in this case...

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have responded. He should have gone ahead and blocked her and moved on but something in him made him type out, _I’m not answering you because what little friendship we had is over. I’m with someone. I’m happy and it’s time you moved on too. I wish you the best of luck._

He pressed send and then followed the steps as before, blocked her number. With that done, he relaxed back into the seat. Pulling up his messages to Abby, he tapped into the message box and typed, _I love you._

* * *

Her night with Octavia had gone exactly as the young girl described. They ordered a pizza and watched a movie that she had fallen asleep thirty minutes into after spending almost an hour talking with Marcus on the phone about Portland. At the end of which, he promised to bring her back a Memphis Mafia which was fried dough with banana chunks and cinnamon covered in glaze, drizzled in chocolate and peanut butter with peanuts and chocolate chips on top. And for Octavia an O Captain, My Captain a donut with vanilla frosting and Captain Crunch plus an assortment of others from the infamous VooDoo Donut.

Her craving for them was so bad that she had gone to bed and dreamt of pastries.

The next morning, she woke with an exorbitant amount of energy. After she showered and got breakfast, she started her grading. Wanting to get that done along with the laundry, while she helped Octavia with her own homework so they could spend the evening with Marcus when he got home.

After what felt like hours later, she squinted at the time on the computer. It was just after noon. There were still four hours until Marcus’ flight would get in and depending on traffic, another hour or two before he would be home. Still, she should probably decide what to make them for dinner. They’d gone to the farmers market that weekend and had plenty of things there to make at home. But what if she wouldn’t feel like cooking by then?

Pursing her lips in thought, she blew out a breath. She needed another opinion. “Should we make dinner tonight or drag your father out?”

Octavia looked up from her book. “Ooo, we could go down the street to Mr. D’s. It’s Greek and has the most amazing pita’s.” Abby made a face. Just imagining it, she could smell the lamb in the air. As if the young girl had read her thoughts, she added, “They also have a place to eat outside if it’s not raining.”

“That could work,” Abby mused while she waited for her upload to finish. All this talk of food had her thinking of how long it’d been since they had breakfast. She dropped a hand to her belly, caressing the spot where her baby girl had been pressing her foot for the last hour. “Now I’m hungry.”

Octavia raised her eyes from her book once again to meet hers. “Want me to go have the guys make you something?”

Abby chuckled. The young girl offered to go get them breakfast that morning and at first Abby thought it’d been a sweet gesture until she went down a little while later to return their breakfast plates and saw that Echo had been training Lincoln on bar.

Now that she thought about downstairs, she could really go for some of those sweet potato fries with the chipotle sauce. “You know...” she began but paused when a loud knock on the door had them both sharing a look of surprise.

“I’ll get it,” Octavia said and dropped her pencil on the counter as she went.

Thinking it would be one of the staff downstairs, Abby went back to her grading and thought of food until she heard an unfamiliar voice drift in from the hall.

“Where’s your dad?” the voice asked not too politely.

She heard Octavia’s voice say, “He’s not here,” and then it raised, calling out, “Hey, you can’t just come in here!”

Abby got to her feet and moved quickly out into the hall. Her heart pounding at the thought that someone from the bar had wandered in without permission. Some drunk or…

She came to a surprised stop in the hall beside Octavia and blinked at the woman marching into the living room.

“They said the same thing downstairs and I know that’s not true - Oh.” The woman came to a stop in the middle of the room. She had long dark hair and almond-shaped dark eyes that took Abby in with one long appraising gaze. “Just who are you?”

Abby placed her hand on her hips. “Shouldn't I be asking you that question?”

“I’m CeCe,” the woman told her. Her eyes looked around like she would find Marcus hiding behind a piece of furniture. “Marcus and I used to date.”

She lifted a brow, unimpressed just as Octavia scoffed.

“You _so_ never did.”

“Octavia, shut up,” the woman snapped, making Octavia’s eyes widen.

“All right, that’s enough.” Abby took a more confident than she felt step toward the woman. Reasoning with herself that while CeCe may have been crazy enough to go barging into Marcus’ home, she very much doubted the woman would risk going to jail over a confrontation with a pregnant woman. Or at least she hoped so. Heart knocking hard in her chest, she met the woman’s stare and lowering her voice, told her, “I don’t know who you are, and quite frankly I don’t give a damn whether you dated Marcus six months ago or five years ago. You’re not now and you have no right to be here. So I suggest you leave before I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”

“And just who the hell do you think you are?” the dark-haired woman spat looking at Abby like _she_ was the one who was intruding into _her_ home.

Boy, did Abby have news for her. She opened her mouth, ready to tell the woman exactly who she was when another voice called from behind her, answering for her.

“Her name is Abby.”

Abby turned to look over her shoulder to see Bellamy standing in the doorway. His face was set into a scowl and met her gaze only for a moment before it slid onto CeCe who stiffened at the sound of his voice.

He walked coolly down the hall, into the room and stepped in front of both her and Octavia. “She’s my dad’s girlfriend and carrying our little sister. She also asked you politely to leave. So I suggest you do as she asked and get the hell out before I throw you out.”

The woman moved slightly to the side in order to tell her, “You think you’re special because he got you pregnant?” Her eyes narrowed. “He’ll break it off with you just like he does with all the rest.”

Bellamy took another step toward CeCe. Abby was tempted to reach out and stop him but felt rooted to the spot. His voice was low, but she could still hear him when he said, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Whatever, I’m going,” she finally said. Moving around him, she gave Abby a small smile. “Nice meeting you, Abby.”

They all watched her walk to the door and slam it closed behind her.

“She’s such a psycho bitch,” Octavia stated tone dripping with venom.

Bellamy started toward the door, calling out over his shoulder as he did, “I’m going to go talk to Roan. She should have never been let up here.”

When he left, Octavia turned toward her. “You okay?”

Abby laughed lightly. Other than being a bit shaken, she was fine. She had been more worried about Octavia than herself. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

Octavia made a sound between a scoff and a snort. “Yeah. It takes a lot more than a pair of high heels and fake boobs to scare me.”

Abby smirked. Octavia may not have been her daughter, but a surge of motherly pride filled her at the young girl’s bravery. “Me too.”

They shared a laugh then went back into the kitchen taking their seats once again. Not long after, the sound of the door opening and Bellamy’s footsteps filled the hall right before he appeared in the kitchen.

“She’s gone, and I don’t think she’ll be coming back. Echo caught her leaving and told her if she caught her anywhere near this place again she'd call the cops.”

“That's good.” Abby nodded.

Bellamy sighed and ran his hand through his hair, reminding her a lot of Marcus. “And what she said about dad dating... he’s not like that. We like to give him crap about CeCe, but they never dated and he hasn't really dated anyone until you.”

She shook her head and waved her hand. She knew Marcus enough to know he’d never date someone who treated his daughter with such disrespect and knew enough of the past he had with CeCe from him. It had been entirely platonic though she had wanted more. And he had admitted he considered it, but one trip with him to one of Octavia’s games had ended it before he could decide. He didn’t keep anything from her. If he and CeCe had dated even though he told his children and his friends different, he would have told her. "Don’t worry about defending your dad to me. I know he’s a good man. Though, at the moment I’m questioning his judge in character when it comes to his friends.”

Bellamy chuckled. A little bit of the tension from the intrusion broken.

Wanting to leave, to go somewhere and forget about what happened Abby turned to Octavia. “You know what, how about we put away our things and go shopping.”

Octavia’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, “Clarke calls it my retail therapy.” Rubbing her hands over her growing belly, she muttered, “And I could really use a new pair of pants. Or six.”

Octavia was off like a shot. “Let me get dressed!” she called over her shoulder as she jogged down the hall.

She and Bellamy watched her go and after a moment, he was the one who broke the silence. “Abby, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for before. I didn’t mean what I said. It was stupid and selfish. You didn’t deserve it.”

The smile he gave her was slow to build but genuine.

“Thank you, Bellamy,’ she told him, her tone full of the overwhelming emotion that she felt for him not only with his apology but for defending her.

He reached back and scratched his neck. “And the truth is, I’m glad my dad has you. I’m not around much lately, but I know you make him and O really happy. Also, just so you know, I think it would have been cool to have a little brother.”

She felt the pin-pricks of tears but managed to push them back. Between him and his father, she was going to be a crying mess for the next four months if they kept this up.

She reached up to pat him on the shoulder but he surprised her by pulling her into a hug. One she gladly returned. When he drew away, she wiped the couple tears from her cheeks that managed to escape and asked, “Do you want to go with us?”

Bellamy shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll hang out here. I’ve been shopping with Octavia enough to know better.”

She laughed and thanked him one more time then made her way back to Marcus’ bedroom for her shoes. There was only a tiny tingling sort of worry she had in the back of her mind that maybe she should be concerned about CeCe returning. But Abby had a feeling Cece finding her there was enough of a shock to keep that from happening.

As she grabbed her purse and keys from the dresser,  she thought about calling Marcus to tell him what happened, but he’d be home soon enough. And besides, she was pretty sure when she left Bellamy alone it was his father that had him reaching for his cell phone. 

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, rain poured down on Seattle which, for Abby and Octavia, didn’t matter. Safely under the cover of the Westlake Center, they wandered from store to store. She bought herself some more maternity shirts, a couple of pairs of jeans, and even a few bras since her boobs decided they were going to go ahead and grow right along with her belly. Something Marcus greatly appreciated but her not so much. She already had a decent size bust for a woman with her frame. Any bigger and she feared she just might fall over.

After, Octavia pulled her into a store that, at first, had far more leather, lace, and metal than she was comfortable with. But smiled when they came out of the store with just an Alice in Wonderland purse and Cheshire Cat tee shirt.

On their way past a children's clothing store, Octavia came to a stop in front of the window. Abby paused too, letting out a wistful sigh. At first. she had purposely been avoiding any and all baby stores because it had been too soon but now, because she and Marcus had started looking at houses. If they happened to find something and ended up moving it would be so much simpler to buy everything after they moved instead of having to pack it all up too. However, what they were looking for, with all the rooms she wanted, the prices that were coming up were a bit steep. And it might actually take them longer to find something than she expected.

The girl’s eyes widened right before she took a step closer to the glass and pressed her finger against it. “Oh, Abby, look at the little foxes!”

She moved over beside her, tilting her head to see the onesie that had captivated Octavia's attention. A smile pulled her lips up, imagining her baby, a little, tiny version of her and Marcus with her nose and lips and his eyes. “It’s cute.”

“Can we go in?” she asked, her eyes bright and excited.

Abby chuckled. “Sure.”

Inside the store was separated into two sections. One side for girls and the other for boys, with a small section in the middle with gender-neutral yellows and browns. Summer had been cleared out except for a small clearance section in the back. The front of the store was filled with fall sweaters and jeans, jackets and hats. The foxes Octavia had seen were the theme along with owls and soft colored floral prints.

“Why haven’t you and dad bought things yet?” she asked as they made their way between racks.

“Well, we’re still not certain where we’re going to live. Once we figure that out we’ll start getting things ready.”

“Awww, look at how little this is.” Octavia found the outfit she saw in the window on a rack. She picked out one of them and held it up. “Will she really fit in this?”

Abby reached out and took the small onesie from Octavia. It was white with little light pink foxes. She held it out and pointed to the little blue clip on the hanger. “This one is three months old. She’ll have a little while before she’ll fit into it.”

“Awe,” she began and took it back from her. Placing it back on the rack she flipped through the sizes. A triumphant grin pulled her lips up when she spotted one marked _Newborn_. Holding it to her chest, she asked, “Can we buy a few things?” Abby was about to answer, but Octavia’s eyes slid from her to somewhere behind her shoulder and her eyes widened as she stepped around her. “And ohhhh, the ruffle tops, and these little boots! Come on, Abby. You know you want to.”

Abby had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling. She had to admit, looking around at all the little outfits she did want to. Taking the little shirt with the ruffle tank sleeves with pink trim from Octavia, she pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t hurt to buy these _few_ things while they were in there. And maybe have a look at the summer clothes on sale.

Letting out a soft sigh, she said, “Yes, we can get them.”

“Hear that little sis,” Octavia said bending down to talk to her belly, “big sis gots you. You’ll be stylish as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Hey, I’m stylish,” Abby defended feigning slight offense at Octavia’s insinuation.

“You are but dad…” Octavia trailed off and then lowered her voice as if the other mothers and their children in the shop would overhear them. “Dad used to buy me Dora clothes.”

Abby wrinkled her nose, unfond of any cartoon characters on clothing.

Octavia stuck out her tongue and made a sound of disgust. “Yeah.”

For the next hour, they browsed their way through the store, picking up things here and there and tossing them into one of those large in-store shoulder bags that a saleswoman had given each of them. It didn’t seem like much but they left with an extensive amount of damage to Abby’s credit card and almost more bags than they could carry.

After taking the bags to the car, they met Clarke and Lexa for lunch at a little restaurant inside the mall. Octavia started a long conversation during their meal with Lexa about her classes at Combat Arts, she and Clarke chatted about what happened at the apartment and even a little bit about her new relationship.

Abby reached for her strawberry lemonade and quietly, to keep from being overheard by the two girls across the table asked, “So how is everything going with you both?”

Clarke finished the bite of salad she’d just taken a bite of then replied, “It’s going good, Mom.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Clarke said placing down her fork and turning slightly toward her.

Abby’s head fell to the side. While she had been disappointed Clarke hadn’t spoken to her about Lexa before, there was nothing to apologize for. “It’s okay, honey. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.” The sincerity in her daughter’s eyes was all that she needed to see.

“Then that’s all that matters,” she told her.

Just then, Octavia spoke from across the table. “Abby, do you think Dad would let me sign up for Lexa’s class?”

She and Clarke shared twin smiles. “I don’t see why not. You’ll have to talk to him about it later when he gets home.” She went to take a bite of her wrap when her phone rang from her purse. She didn’t even need to see the screen to know who was calling. She was surprised it took this long. “Speaking of your father,” she began, then held the phone to her ear, “Hey, there…”

But whatever she would have said next was cut off by his anxious voice, “Bellamy called me a little while ago, and I just got his message, are you all right?”

As soothingly as she could, she told him, “Marcus, I’m fine. We’re fine. Octavia and I are out shopping with Clarke and Lexa.”

“I’m sorry, I’m on my way back,” he said, not sounding the least bit comforted. “Just waiting for this flight to board.”

“Marcus, there’s no reason to hurry. It happened. She’s gone. It’s done.”

“No, I am sorry.” He let out an aggravated growl. “I shouldn’t have responded to her message.”

“You text her?” she asked as her eyes drifted around the table. From beside her Clarke raised a brow, Octavia scowled, and Lexa took a drink of her tea, stoic as ever.

“Yes.” He let out a heavy sigh. She could picture him at the airport pacing and running a hand through his hair that had been growing out along with his beard. “She sent me one this morning asking why I wouldn’t reply to her, and I responded that our friendship was over that I was with you and happy. Hell, I even wished her good luck. A sentiment I fully take back now.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the dark resentment in his tone. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her anymore. Your son can be quite intimidating when he wants to be. He’s very much like his father.”

His next words were much softer. “I’m glad he was there.”

“He was,” she assured, “You’d have been proud.”

“I am. He told me he apologized.”

“It was unnecessary, but he did.”

Another sigh. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Marcus, I’m fine. I promise,” she said. Across from her Lexa informed them of their approaching appointment and looked down at her half-eaten wrap. “Now let me go because I need to finish my lunch so the girls and I can go get our mani-pedis.”

“Get your what?” he asked, sounding completely perplexed.

She rolled her eyes. Yeah, if she needed proof he hadn’t dated in a long while he’d just given it to her. “Get our nails done.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” she told him.

They said their goodbyes, and Abby tucked her phone back into her purse. Once she finished her wrap, they made their way to the spa. She listened quietly as they all chatted back and forth feeling the last months’ worth of tension with Clarke and Bellamy lifted and was replaced with a renewed sense of hope.

* * *

His ride from the airport back home seemed to take longer than the flight itself. For every red light, every pause in traffic, Marcus swore. And not so quietly either. He caught the uneasy eyes of his driver in the rearview mirror more than a couple times, but he could care less. Abby may have said it was over and done with, but he would make damn sure it was the last time it happened.

That was the one good thing about where he lived. For business reasons, he had security cameras all over the place. All it took was one call to Roan and one to his attorney to start the process of filing a restraining order on her. She needed to know he was serious. That she couldn’t just get away with what she had done. Her months of harassment were about to come to an abrupt judicial end, and he wasn’t sorry for it because she brought it on herself.

While he needed to talk to Roan and his staff and find out how exactly CeCe managed to get upstairs, he didn’t stop inside the bar after he’d been dropped off but went straight up to the apartment. Unlocking the door, he found the dining room beside the entryway cluttered with shopping bags, names scrolled across marked Modern Maternity, Hot Topic, and Baby GAP. And inside, completely quiet.

Just as he closed the door behind him, Bellamy appeared from the kitchen.

“Where’s Abby and Octavia?” he asked.

Bellamy raised a finger to his lips then with the same hand waved for him to follow him further into the apartment.

Once in the living room, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Octavia and Abby were both asleep on the couch. Octavia on one end and Abby on the other. They seemed to have fallen asleep in the middle of a movie, as the screen was on the Netflix menu.

“I came upstairs not long after they got back to find them like this,” Bellamy said, his voice low so not to wake them.

Marcus nodded then turned and walked back into the kitchen, Bellamy trailing behind him. Once they were far enough away he crossed his arms across his chest and said, “Tell me again what happened.”

“Well I came over and CeCe had just stormed in not long before. I walked in just as Abby told her to get out before she called the police. She asked Abby who the hell she was, and that’s when I stepped in and got rid of her but not before she said some more things to Abby.”

His face was serious, and it made Marcus’ chest tighten. “What things?”

“Basically?” Bellamy raised a brow. “She called you a slut.”

He let out a breath. Jesus, was that all? At least she went after him rather than after Abby. “Lovely,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” his son agreed, letting out a sigh and putting his hands on his hips. “Once I made sure she was gone, Abby took Octavia shopping.” He paused and surprised Marcus by smiling. “O really likes her.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a sideways smirk. “I think it’s more than like, and it’s the same for Abby too, I can assure you.” He reached out an put a hand on his son’s shoulder. The gratefulness he felt for his son being there when he couldn’t, not to mention the insurmountable pride made his chest flood with warmth. “Thank you for being here for them.”

“Not a problem,” Bellamy said. His son’s face fell right before he looked him in the eyes, adding, “Look what I said before... it’s just… I’m moving on and so are you guys, and it just felt a lot like I’m on the outside looking in.”

“Bellamy, no matter where you are, you’re a part of this family. And you have always been and will always be my son.” His hand tightened on his shoulder emphasizing his words. “My first son.”

Bellamy nodded, his eyes bright with the same unshed tears that were filling his own. His voice was gruff when he answered with a, “I know.”

They drew together in a quick father-son embrace then Marcus clapped him on the back and smirked at him. “All right, how about we make the ladies dinner?”

His son made a face at that. “You know I can’t cook.”

“It’s not hard.” He started over to the fridge. “Even you can’t screw up pasta.”

Bellamy scoffed. “You clearly don’t remember when you said that about the grilled cheese of 2012.”

“I do, in fact. I still have the receipt from all the cabinets I had to replace.” His brow furrowed, and he teased, “What the hell made you think cooking it in olive oil was a good idea?”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy shrugged. “It looked fancy on the cooking channel.”

Marcus laughed.

For the next hour he started the sauce while Bellamy ran down the block to the market for garlic bread and cheesecake. He sauteed garlic and onions while chopping green peppers and tomatoes. And when Bellamy returned Marcus had him work on slicing the garlic bread while they talked about his classes and about his relationship with Gina that was going really well.

Then Bellamy asked about CeCe and what he planned to do about keeping it from happening again. He smiled at the protectiveness in Bellamy’s tone and reassured him he’d already called John, who Bellamy knew well from all the meetings they had with him when they were young and petitioning the court for his adoption and name change. His attorney was already working on filing the papers come Monday.

Satisfied, Bellamy went back to talking about Gina until Abby came sleepily into the kitchen.

Marcus looked from Abby to him and said, “Why don’t you go try and wake your sister,” and received a nod in response. To Abby, he smiled from his place by the stove as he continued to stir the sauce. “You're awake.”

She ran a hand through her long hair, pushing it back away from her face, and with a soft smile in return, sleepily said, “I smelled food.”

He chuckled as she came to stand beside him and wrapping an arm around her waist, pressed a kiss to her brow. “You smelled food or the baby smelled food?”

She looked up at him and smirked. “Both.”

Her eyes were bright despite her nap and he dipped his head to give her a soft lingering kiss before nodding in the direction of the dining room. “I see you got things.”

Her top teeth sunk into her bottom lip, guiltily. “Octavia got so excited by the baby clothes that I may have got a bit excited, too.”

“Do we have anything left to buy?” he teased.

“So much,” she replied with an amused chuckle. “Believe it or not, I did hold back from buying too much so you could be with me.”

Warmed that she thought about him and wanted him along, he smiled. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to wait for me if you see something you want.”

With a hum, she wrapped her arms around his middle. Her hands ran up and down his back sending a shiver down his spine. Looking up at him with those warm brown eyes, she dropped her voice to that low sultry bedroom voice he loved so much and said, “Speaking of things I want…”

“Yeah?”

A slow smile spread across her lips right before her head tilted towards the stove. “Is dinner ready?”

He snorted a laugh, murmured, “Yes,” then leaned down and took her lips in a quick kiss before he moved away and got her a plate. 

* * *

Later that night they both laid in bed, each with their own book. His, a thriller of hers based on a movie about a wife who had gone missing. He wasn’t so sure about it at first, but now that he was into it, discovered it was one hell of a fucking head trip. So much so he had to put it away after about thirty minutes.

“Just so you know,” he said tossing the book on the small dresser beside his bed. “I’m never leaving you here alone again.”

Abby looked up from the textbook she had been reading. A black pair of glasses sat on the end of her nose looking like they were about to fall off. She must have been thinking the same as he because she pushed them up with the tip of her middle finger before laughing and asking him, “Do you have more ex- _friends_ who might show up and barge in?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Well then,” she said as if that was the end of it.

Moving down in the bed, he got close to her side and ran a hand over her stomach. Closing his eyes, he yawned. It had been a hell of a day, and he had no shame curling up next to his warm pregnant girlfriend and falling asleep. That was until he felt a little movement under his palm. His heart quickened and his eyes widened as he looked up at Abby.

Her eyes met his, and she put her book aside. “Did you feel that?”

“I did,” he told her in an astonished breathy chuckle.

Her hand fell over his and pressed it down gently. “Keep your hand there, she’ll move again in a second.”

He waited. Breath caught in his chest until it happened again. This time when it did, it was much stronger than before. “Whoa.” He laughed again. When he felt Octavia's kicks Aurora had been much further along so it made sense to him that the little foot nudging his hand was strong, but this… “Did that hurt?”

Shaking her head, she smiled and ran her hand through his hair. “No.” He rested his head back down and waited for another. A few minutes went by, and it hadn’t happened again. He opened his mouth to ask her if she felt anything else when she said, “You know if you talk to her she might move some more.”

His heart clenched and his throat tightened. Looking back up at her, he asked, “You think?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Or she’ll fall asleep. Either way, your voice will excite her or soothe her. It’s a win-win.”

He couldn’t argue that. Moving farther down in the bed, he came to rest beside her belly and placed his hand back where it’d had been before. Abby moved hers back over it, then rested her head back against  the pillows. Her gaze on him, soft and loving.

Dropping his gaze to their hands, he began, “Hey, little lady, you know if you keep kicking your mother like you are, I’m going to sign you up for football like your sister as soon as you get out of there.” He only had to wait a beat, before he felt another soft jab. His smile split into a grin. “Like that, huh?” he began and gazed up at Abby. She was smiling, but he caught her at the tail end of an eye-roll. “You mother is rolling her eyes, but we’ll show her, won’t we? You and I. We’ll make a proper footballer out of you.”

“As soon as she gets out of there, hm?” Abby asked him, her tone skeptical yet playful.

“Absolutely,” he said, “her first pair of shoes will be a little pair of pink cleats. They’ll be adorable.” He felt another kick followed by another. “That’s right, get all of your little kicks out now, that way your mom can sleep tonight.”

A snort came from above him and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud. She’d been getting more and more uncomfortable, the bigger she got. The only way she seemed to sleep was by placing pillows all around her, but more specifically _his_ pillows. Thankfully, the guest room had a couple of extras for him to use.

He heard Abby yawn and glancing at the clock beside her, he knew she didn’t have much longer before she would be ready for bed. Leaning forward he placed a kiss to her belly and said, “I’m going to go kiss your mom for a while now cause she’s getting tired. You go to sleep and we’ll chat some more tomorrow.” Moving back up, he rested his elbow on the pillow beside Abby’s head and put his hand in his palm. “Thank you,” he told her.

She smiled softly, knowing what he was thanking her for. For letting him have these little moments to share with her. Moments he’d been denied before.

“You’re welcome.” This time, it was she who turned toward him and closed the distance between them. “I love you,” she said right before their lips met.

“I love you, too,” he murmured sometime later with their lips finally parted.


	14. Chapter 14

Fall swept quickly into the Puget Sound as September became October and then November. It dusted the trees of Evergreen State in crisply burnt oranges, pale gold yellows, and dark rusty reds. They say for Seattle, November was the beginning for winter. The temperatures fell from the dramatic high seventies to the low forties. It never got too cold, but the storms from the Pacific shrouded them in constant grays and their  intense  winds had Seattleites putting on the layers.  

And as Abby knew all too well as her years spent as a doctor, along with the cooler temperatures came cold and flu season. 

Not a year went by that at least one of the people in her little family came down with one or the other. When Clarke was little, she would want Abby within arm’s reach. It was always,  _ Mamma, I want you! _ even when Abby was right beside her. Her little girl was such a cuddler. And she wanted to be held through it all. Jake was the opposite. He preferred to down a bottle of NyQuil and sleep through it all. Though he did suffer from that man illness (because Abby was certain it was specific to all men) where he couldn’t, God forbid, leave the bed to get his own glass of water or make himself toast. Still, besides getting him things, he wasn’t the cuddly type.   

Marcus on the other hand…

He was just as bad as Clarke.

Abby sighed as she sat down next to him on the bed. He had the duvet tucked up all around him. Protesting he was cold even when he was hot to the touch and his hair stuck to his temples and neck from his raised temperature. 

He reached a hand out from under the duvet for her and she gave him a stern look. He’d been wanting to kiss her all morning and she was having none of it. The last thing she needed was to get sick too.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm not kissing you. If you would have got a flu shot like I told you, you wouldn't be sick and you'd be allowed to kiss me.”

With a voice gruff from coughing all night, he replied, “What if it kills me?”

She gave him a look.

“If you think I’m raising this baby by myself you’ve got another thing coming. Put this under your tongue.” He looked at the thermometer then at her and narrowed his eyes and she narrowed hers right back. After a few seconds of silently dueling one another, he took it, placed it under his tongue and she smiled. She leaned forward and brushed his hair away from his brow. His eyes closed at the caress, making her heart melt a bit for him. The soft beep from the thermometer a few seconds later had her sitting up and taking it from his mouth. “Just what I thought. 102.6. You are  _ not _ to go downstairs today. I mean it, Marcus. I'll call Echo and check.”

He let out a huff of a breath. “I think you should stay home and take care of me.”

“I would, but my kids have a test coming and an important lab today…” He took her hand and gently tugged, making her chuckle, “and nooo, Marcus.”

He let go, with a deep frown. “Fine, go. Leave me here alone, take my daughter and all your kisses.”

She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling but leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to his brow. When she pulled away, it was only far enough to look into his eyes. “Better?”

He smiled a little bit, but still pouted, “I suppose it’ll do.”

She let out a soft chuckle and shook her head slightly. “You’re such a man.”

“A fact you normally appreciate,” he said with a crooked smile but then burst into another fit of coughing. 

She made a face even though it was true. She did very much appreciate that aspect of him. Proven by the amount of sex they still had six months into their relationship with no signs of that decreasing anytime soon… well, until the baby came. 

“I do appreciate it,” she assured, “but not with you sick like this. I’ll see you tonight.”

He let out a sigh, then gave a nod. “All right. I love you.”

Reaching over she cupped his cheek and ran her thumb over the stubble. “I love you, too. Get some rest.”

An hour later, she made her way to her office. Today, she had driven herself. Clarke had gone on a ski trip with Lexa Wednesday night after classes and wouldn’t be getting back into town until later that night. 

She hadn’t minded the drive though. She played her favorite station, one she had to forgo most of the time for Clarke’s alternative station with zero commercials or morning talk. Abby loved her morning radio duo Brooke and Jubal in The Morning. She loved their snark, their shared love for their city, and celebrity gossip she didn’t normally have the time to indulge in. 

Stopping at the cafe just inside the Medical and Sciences building, she ordered a half-decaf coffee. She’d been up most of the night with Marcus’ coughing and just needed the little boost to get her through the morning. 

“Morning, Abby,” came a voice from next to her and she looked around to see her teacher's assistant smiling at her.

“Good morning, Jackson.”

“Half-decaf almond vanilla latte,” the barista called out.

He raised a brow at her. That dark judgmental brow she’d only come to know over the last three months since she told him of her and Marcus’ news. From the one who kept her desk stocked with a bowl filled with fruit and nuts and Lara Bars. “Stop looking at me like that,” she told him.

“How am I looking at you?” Jackson asked as he took her coffee before she could reach for it, and slid a five-dollar bill across the counter to the barista. “Can I get another one of these only full decaf?”

He lifted the drink up to his lips and took a sip. Why that little…

“That was mine,” she said.

“It was,” he said with a smirk. “I’m only following your orders.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“Then you should have one of these vegan chocolate-chip muffins Nate made.” Her brows rose, and he must have seen the skepticism on her face because he held one out to her and added, “I know what you’re thinking, how can a vegan chocolate chip muffin wake me up better than coffee? Well, firstly, chocolate, and secondly, they have chia seeds which are packed with omega-3 fatty acids that, as you know, will help ward off fatigue. And they taste surprisingly good.”

“Are you through?” she asked, taking a coffee sleeve from the counter and placing her new  _ decaf  _ coffee into it. 

The edges of his lips tugged up. “Yes.” 

“Good.” She held out her hand. “Give me a damn muffin.”

Jackson handed one over with a grin “The baby can hear you, you know.” 

They started walking toward her office. “Yes, and she’s very well aware her mother curses.” Peeling one side of the paper, she took a bite. She hummed. It was surprisingly moist, sweet, and the best part, filled with little chocolate chips. “These are good.”

“Why do you think I married him?”

She let out a light chuckle. “It wasn’t the sweet and handsome that got you?”

“Nah, it was his cooking.” Jackson laughed along with her. “Seriously, how are you though? Caffeine withdrawal aside, why couldn’t you sleep?”

They rounded the corner and both stepped to the side as Professor Tsing barreled around the corner. They shared similar looks of annoyance when no apology came from the woman. Even Abby’s soft,  _ Excuse us _ , had no effect on her colleagues punctuated steps. With a roll of her eyes, she and Jackson continued down the hall picking up their conversation as they did so. “I’m fine. It’s my sick other-half who kept me up with his coughing.”

“Oh?”

Reaching her door, she took her keys from her vest pocket. “Marcus came down with the flu. I told him to get a flu shot weeks ago but he has a thing with needles.” Opening the door, she paused in the doorway to her office and sneezed. “Ugh, I better not be getting sick.”

“You might want to think about staying at home until he gets better,” Jackson suggested. 

She dropped her bag and purse on the chair in front of her desk. “With my man-child?”

“It’ll be worse for you if you come down with it.”

Placing her coffee and phone down on the desk she went back over to her bag. “True, but I’ve already been exposed.”

“Can’t be too careful in your condition.”

She raised an eyebrow, knowing he was right but wasn’t about to admit it at the moment. He’d already taken her coffee. Digging into her bag she held out a stack of papers. “Can you go make copies of this lab for me? And share another muffin?”

“Yeah, of course.” He took the papers and handed over the small container in trade. “Have as many as you’d like.”

Smiling, she popped off the lid. “Thank you.”

With another muffin in hand, she went around and sat at her desk, sipped her coffee while she waited for her computer to boot up. Only this week and half a week next week and then it would be Thanksgiving break and she’d be off for a nice long, relaxing weekend.

* * *

 

Marcus Kane was pretty sure he was going to die. 

Or he wanted to. Almost. If he hadn’t had children, a woman he loved and cherished and a baby on the way, he probably would have. He couldn’t ever remember being this sick. His head pounded, his sinuses felt like they were on fire, and he was almost certain during his last round of coughing, one of his lungs came up with the phlegm. His body ached. Not just from coughing, but everywhere. It wasn’t an understatement to say that even his hair hurt. 

After Abby left, he fell back to sleep for a few hours and woke up soaked in sweat. Somehow he managed to drag himself from the bed and into the shower. The hot water had been a momentary relief and gave him enough energy to change into a clean pair of sweats and tee shirt and throw on a clean set of bed sheets, but once the task was complete, collapsed back into bed utterly spent.

Reaching out, he downed the water Abby left him on the bedside table. He contemplated getting up for more, but his eyelids were heavy as stones and he fell back asleep almost instantly after that.

But the banging on the door startled him back awake.

Turning on his back, he blinked up at the ceiling. “Octavia!” he called out, but when no response came he remembered she was still in school. “Fuck,” he muttered.

He lay there and mentally went through a list of people in his head who had a key to the door downstairs and if they would be worth dragging himself from bed. Which, through his flu-addled mind he found strange because he’d received no calls or texts. If it had been something important Echo would have called. 

For a tiny,  infinitesimal moment his mind thought of CeCe and that was what finally had him sitting up and getting to his feet. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. Unless she decided to go against her no-contact order that kept her 300 feet from him, Abby, their children, and his business. By the time he got into the hall, the pounding started again, this time louder and more insistent than before.  

He growled softly but began coughing. Whoever it was better have something damn good to say, because if they didn’t he’d…

Twisting the lock, he opened the door along with his mouth to give the person on the other side ten kinds of hell but no words came out. He stood there, rooted to the spot utterly stunned. 

“Mom?”

“Surprise!” she said, eyes shining up at him. “Took you long enough tae open the door, I must say.” She paused as they stared at one another. “You donna need tae look so shocked.”

He shook his head then looked down at her again. Jesus, he had to be dreaming. “I'm sorry, Mom, but why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

“Then it wouldn' be a surprise,” she paused, tilted her head. “Aren' you goin’ tae invite your mother in?”

He stepped back. “Yes, of course.”

Just then the sound of the door closing at the bottom of the steps had him and his mom stepping back out into the hall.

Octavia stood at the bottom. Her eyes widened just before she sprang up the steps. “Gran! I didn’t know you were coming!”

Octavia ran up into his mother’s embrace. “No, one did dear.”

When they were all inside, he told his daughter, “Octavia, will you take your grandmother’s things to the spare room and go call your brother and tell him she’s here.”

“Sure.”

He shuffled over beside the table and braced his hand on its hard-oak surface. “I’m not sure if you’ll want to stay here, Mom. I’ve come down with the flu. Maybe I can get you a room down the street…”

Her face fell and she shook her head. “Marcus, you’ll do nothin’ of the sort.”

“Mom, this isn’t just a cold. I’m doing everything I can to stand up at the moment.”

“Well, then you need tae sit down then. Come on, go in that thing you call a living room and I’ll bring you some tea.”

“Okay, Bell’s coming later,” Octavia said, already back in the room with them.

“All right,” he started and stood up fully.

His mother had other plans and she wrapped an arm around his daughter steering her towards the kitchen. “Octavia, why don’ you come help me make your father some tea and you tell me all that’s been goin’ on in your life…”

“Mom, I can make my own…” he began.

She turned to him and pointed down the hall. “Marcus, go. Sit down before you fall down. I’m gonna have a chat with my granddaughter.”

He shared a look with Octavia. “Why don’t you tell your grandmother all about  _ school… _ ”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

* * *

 

In her lab, Abby had one rule. No cell phones. You could have them out if there was an emergency, but it had to be on silent and her students had to come let her know they may get a call and have to step out of the room if one came in. 

And when it came to her, it was no different. At the start of her lab, she told them all she would have her phone on her and she might have to step outside. She hadn’t actually believed she would need to. He sent her a text not thirty minutes before, telling her he was going back to bed. Her brows furrowed when she read it because that was it. 

_ Going back to bed. _

She chuckled remembering reading it as she walked to class wondering what he had been doing that got him up  _ from  _ bed. Just when she thought Marcus Kane couldn’t be more ridiculously adorable he went and got sick and low and behold. More adorable. 

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone to see if she’d gotten a text from Clarke and saw not one but two missed calls and another message from Marcus. 

_ Call me as soon as you can. _

She quickly got to her feet and started walking out of the room.“Everyone keep working on what you’re doing,” she said while glancing at the few students who looked up from their microscopes. Out in the hall, she brought up his name and waited through four rings before he answered. 

His voice sounded like gravel, as he greeted her with a, “Hey, love.”

“Hey, you should be sleeping,” she told him. The knot of anxiety that gripped her heart when she read his message began to loosen but not for long.

His voice grew softer and it was much easier to understand him this time when he replied, “I know…”

She heard him let out a deep sigh and then silence filled the line. He didn’t just call and leave her a message just to hear her voice. She knew him better than that. So when the silence stretched out for longer than she was comfortable with, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Another sigh. “Nothing much just got an unexpected visitor today.”

There was no missing the weariness in his tone and her head dropped back. That could only mean one thing. “Oh God, not again.”

“No, not CeCe,” he said. And oh, thank  _ God _ , she was about ready to suggest they move but then he continued on,“My mother decided to stop by for a visit.”

“Oh.” She let out a relieved laugh. Was that all? The hand that wasn’t holding the phone she placed on her belly. Pressed the heel of her hand into the spot where her daughter’s foot was stretching out against her side. “Why does that make you sound like the world’s coming to an end?”

He fell silent once again and that feeling of unease she had before came back. Finally, after a long drawn out pause, he admitted, “I might not have told her about us or about the baby.”

She stopped in her tracks where she’d been pacing down the hall. Her hand moved from her belly to the small of her back. She tried not to sound as shocked as she was but it turned out to be futile. “You haven’t told your  _ mother  _ we’re having a child?”

“Not yet,” he started.

“Marcus!” she hissed, her mood shifting from shocked to furious in an instant. Of all the things he could do to piss her off this would be at the top of her list. She was due in three months.  _ Three _ . Less than three if she wanted to get technical. And he still hadn’t told his mother? 

“I know... she’s just so fanatical about everything.”

Her eyes widened as she remembered a conversation between them not too long ago now, in front of a fire where he told her,  _ screw what she thinks _ . She let out a humorless laugh and shook her head. Was that all some kind of cop-out because he had no intention of ever telling her? Had he been lying to her this whole time? 

“And that’s our problem, why?” she asked. 

“Abby, I just need some time to explain it to her. That’s what I was calling to tell you.”

_ Explain  _ it to her? What was there to explain?

“Well, she’s going to know the moment she sees me.” Nothing. Silence. He was completely quiet. Oh, so  _ this  _ was why he wanted her to call him. He didn’t want her to come back to the apartment. Well, fine then. “How much time do you need, Marcus?”

He must have picked up on how angry she was because the next words out of his mouth were, “I’m going to tell her right now I just wanted to… tell you.”

Mmmhm. “Correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t it you who told me what she thinks doesn’t matter? Or did you just say that because she was in another country and you wouldn’t have to tell her?”

“I would have told her.”

“When?” she challenged. Now she was ready for a fight. “ _ After _ our daughter was born?”

She heard him let out a soft groan. “Honestly, if I could have gotten away with it, I probably would have waited longer.”

God damn him, of course, he would tell her that. Of course, he would be honest with her. And that just made her even madder that he waited until now. “Are you ashamed of us?”

“What? God,  _ no _ . Abby, I love you and our child. That’s not what this is about.”

“Then be a man and tell her. Deal with her disappointment and be done with it. Cause we both know that’s what this is really about.”

There was a long pause before his voice filled the line once again. “That’s apart of it, yes, but also I didn’t want…”

“I don’t care right now, Marcus. I have a class to get back to before it ends. Just... ” she trailed off as angry tears spilled down her cheeks. “Just tell her.”

“I will,” he said through a cough. “I’ll tell her now.”

“Good,” she huffed. Looking down, she used the tip of her boot to lift away a scruff left on the floor. “I’m going to stay home tonight. I’ve got a lot of grading to do and I need to spend some time with Clarke when she gets home.”

“Abby, I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes. The softness in his tone made her eyes fill with more tears. “I know you are. I’m just, I’m mad at you right now, Marcus. Drink lots of fluids, tell your mother, and then get back in bed.”

“I will. I love you.”

She let out a long sigh. She loved him, too. So very much, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t be mad at him. “I love you, too.”

She hung up then, put her phone back in the pocket of her vest, wiped her tears and went back for the last ten minutes of her class. 

* * *

 

The line went dead and he hung his head. Apart of it from the pounding behind his eyes, but mostly from the shame. He hadn’t really thought through what he was going to say to her until he heard her voice on the line and that was when it all went to hell. 

He hadn’t really meant for her to take it that he didn’t want her to come back but she had. What he’d wanted, what his reasoning had been was that he wanted her to stay at home to spare Abby whatever reaction that would come from his mother. Because whatever it would be, it wouldn't be good. He deserved every word of anger she had for him. And she had been right to call him out for not wanting to hear how disappointed his mother would be in him  _ again _ . All because he didn’t follow along with her same ideals. 

He’d sat by her when she called up her parents. Held her hand while she explained their situation supporting her in any way that he could and what had he done? He’d hid them away. Despite whatever good intentions he had in doing so, it had been wrong and unfair to the woman he loved. 

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. 

His cowardice had gone and cocked everything all up. Now Abby was the one angry at him. He should have just called her from the start instead of being the coward that he was. 

His stomach twisted and not from the flu. 

He dropped his phone beside him on the bed. She was there and it was time to stop hiding. His only wish was that she could have come at a time when he could think clearly, until he could sit upright through it all when she unleashed all of God’s fury on him for being a poor father and man for getting a woman pregnant out of wedlock. 

Getting to his feet he shuffled back into the living room where his mother sat with Octavia. His daughter had been in the middle of a story about her last game of the season. He hated to break up the moment they were having but he needed to get this conversation over and done with so he could call Abby back and grovel. Because he was sure that was what it was going to take to get back in her good graces. 

“Octavia can you go downstairs for a little bit, I need to talk with your grandmother.”

Octavia’s eyes flew from his to her grandmother's. “Sure. Can I go hang out with Lincoln?”

“That’s fine just…” he paused looking over at his mother, before adding, “you know.” Her friendship with Lincoln was another conversation they were definitely not going to get into with his mother in the room. 

“I do.” She came over to him, kissed him on the cheek then whispered, “Good luck.”

He would have snorted if he hadn’t felt like shit.

Collapsing down in the chair across from his mother, he rested his head back and ran his hands over his face. 

“You poor thing, what can I get for you? Do you want me tae make you some soup?”

Tipping his head back down, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think I could keep it down if you did.”

Her frown reminded him of when he was young and wanted to get up and play when he was sick. “You should be restin’ then.”

He nodded. “I will Mom, but we have to talk first.”

Her head fell to the side. “What is it?” Her eyes soft, looking at him like he could just about say anything to her. Oh, how he wished that were true. 

“I’ve been meaning to…” he trailed off. He hadn’t. There was no reason to go into this lying. “No, that’s not right. I haven’t been meaning to talk with you because I’ve been afraid of what you might say.”

“Afraid of your mum?” She laughed, and it was still the same bright musical laugh of hers from when he was little. “What is it, Marcus?”

Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if he started at the beginning? 

Lifting his eyes to hers, he told her, “I’ve been seeing someone. Her name is Abby.”

Her face brightened. “That’s grand. Why wouldn’ you want tae tell me?” She looked at him with wide perplexed eyes and Jesus if she only knew what was coming.

“I haven’t wanted to tell you because…” his words trailed off and he shook his head before rising to his feet. No, he wasn’t going to tell her like this. He was going to do it the right way. He was going to introduce Abby with her by his side and damn any reaction that came from her. “You know what, Mom, I’ll be back.” 

Without thinking, he took off down the hall, stepped into his trainers by the door, grabbed his coat and set of keys. 

“Marcus, where are you goin’?” she asked from behind him.

“I’ve got to go out for a little bit,” he told her, pulling on his jacket.

“It’s pourin’ out there, Marcus.” She frowned even deeper at him. “You’ll catch your death as sick as you are.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He smiled, his spirits rising knowing what he was going to do. “I’ll send Octavia up and be back soon.” He jogged down the steps and made his way through the bar and downstairs in the break room where he found Octavia playing pool. He told her where he was going and to go back upstairs with her grandmother until he got back. 

Making his way to his car he thought maybe he should have grabbed a heavier jacket as cold as it was but the thought didn’t stay with him for long. He set off for the freeway and hoped beyond all hope she wasn’t mad enough that she wouldn’t talk to him. 

* * *

 

“Hey, I thought you’d be over at Kane’s.”

Abby looked up from her spot in the middle of her bed to see her daughter peeking her head into her room. Smiling she moved over her laptop from the side of her bed and waved her over. “Yeah, well, I’m a little upset with him right now so here I am.”

“Uh oh,” Clarke said, “what’d he do?’

She looked over and reaching up moved her glasses up to sit on the top of her head. “His mother showed up today and he called and told me he still hadn’t told her.”

“Oh.”

The anger that had faded earlier came back to her in a rush. “Why do men have to make things so difficult?”

Clarke blinked at her. “I don’t know-”

It was a rhetorical question, and she was still annoyed so she didn’t stop to hear Clarke’s response. “I called my parents and listened to my mother lecture me for two hours on having a child this late in life with him sitting right beside me and he has the nerve to think he can get out of it so easy? Just because she’s some kind of religious nut?”

“Yeah…”

“Two  _ hours _ , Clarke.” 

Clare’s eyes widened. Her words came out slow as if she were speaking to a child. “Okay, I know. I was here too, remember? Settle down.”

Abby growled, reached out for the remote in front of her and changed the channel on the TV. Not that she was watching it. She just wanted to click the buttons really hard. He was such an idiot and he was lucky she loved him. “If I have to suffer my mother than he should have to suffer his.”

After a moment, Clarke asked, “Is he going to tell her?”

Abby scoffed. “If he ever wants back in this bed again he will.”

“Ewe, Mom, gross.”

Abby frowned at her daughter. But she guessed, she wouldn’t have wanted to hear about her parents either so she changed the subject, kind of. “And now I’m probably not going to sleep tonight because my nerves are a mess and it has your sister awake.”

Clarke smiled. “Can I?”

Abby took her daughter's hand and put it on top of her belly. “Of course, you can.”

After a while of feeling the baby’s movements, Clarke laughed. “Does that hurt?”

“Only when she decides to stretch out and put a foot in my rib.”

Her daughter’s brows drew together and her nose scrunched as she took her hand back. “God, that sounds horrible.”

Abby let out a soft laugh. “It’s not so bad.”

“Do you want me to stay home with you tonight?”

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and tried not to let her disappointment at not being able to have more time with her daughter show. After all, she understood how it felt to be in a new, exciting relationship. Until they were idiots anyway. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll watch a movie until I get tired.”

Clarke rose to her feet, but before leaving asked, “Do you want me to go downstairs and grab Mamma Mia for you before I go?”

Abby’s lips pulled up. “Would you?”

“Yes.”

Before Clarke left the room, she added, “And you two be careful out there tonight. A storm’s coming in and we’re supposed to get a lot of rain and some really bad winds.”

“We’re not going out anymore. We’ll be at Lexa’s. No need to worry about us.” Clarke smiled.

Abby’s shoulders fell. That was a relief. After watching the evening news tell its viewers to stay indoors if at all possible because of the heavy winds and rains expected she felt much better knowing her daughter would be safe inside. It would keep her from being up all night worrying about her. 

Even now she could hear the wind outside and the gusts they were expecting hadn’t even begun yet. 


	15. Chapter 15

The storm started to get worse not long after Clarke left. Abby could hear the gusts blowing the trees against the house, and the rain hitting the windows and the banging on the door…

She paused the movie and listened. That last sound was almost like a knock. Pushing aside her blankets, Abby took her sweater from the end of the bed and made her way downstairs. She came to a stop as the front door opened, revealing a dripping wet Marcus.

“Marcus, what are you doing here?”

He reached up and pushed his wet hair out of his face. “I needed to see you.”

Her footsteps carried her the rest of the way over to him. “God, it’s pouring out there, the wind is ridiculous.” She looked over his shoulder outside, where she could see the rain blowing more sideways in the wind than down and frowned. “Did you drive here yourself? You're supposed to be in bed.” She realized her tone was very mom-ish, but she didn’t care. He was sick and shouldn’t have been out in this.

“I know but I couldn't have you think...” He broke off coughing into the crook of his elbow.

She raised an eyebrow then moved around him, closing the door when it was obvious no one else had come with him. “You could have called. I may be mad at you, but I still would have answered my phone.”

He turned to face her. The darkness under his eyes and frown that he wore had her annoyance for him leaving her as quickly as it came. How could she stay mad at him when he looked like a puppy rescued from a puddle?

“I know, but I needed to see you.”

Shaking her head, she reached up and began to slide his jacket off his shoulders. “Shoes off, come on.”

Upstairs, she walked him over to the closet where she took an extra set of clothes he left there for the nights he stayed with her and handed them to him. “You’re soaked. Here put these on.”

He nodded, and while he changed, she went into the bathroom and got him a towel for his hair. She had just stepped back into the bedroom when he finished pulling on his cotton pants. Handing him the towel,  she picked up the wet clothes from the floor and tossed them in the hamper inside the closet. Normally she might have bristled at him for not taking the extra few steps to put them there himself but he was sick and wet and well with that torso he could get away with most things.

His rough voice startled her from her thoughts. “Abby, I’m sorry. I’m not ashamed of the baby or us.”

She straightened and crossed her arms across her chest. Her stubbornness winning out over her sympathy for the moment. “What about what she thinks?”

“Fuck what she thinks,” he croaked and said it with so much conviction that she couldn’t help the way her lips pulled up at the edges. He reached out and took her gently by the upper arms. “Come back with me.”

Her shoulders softly fell as the last of her tension left her. “I will, but tomorrow,” she insisted, reaching up and pressing her hand to his chest. “We’re not going anywhere in this storm. Does your mother have someone to keep her company?”

“Octavia’s there with her. Bellamy should be too by now.”

“I’ll call Octavia and let her know we’ll be back tomorrow. _You_ get in bed.”

She gave him a light shove back and he went. She removed her laptop and papers, stacked them neatly on the table beside her bed before taking her phone downstairs. Octavia answered on the first ring. Her voice low, asking about her dad. Abby assured her he was fine and with her, they would be there in the morning and to keep her grandmother company for the night. The young girl promised she would, and they both hung up the phone. With the lights off and the doors locked, she made her way back upstairs.

When she reached her room, she hovered beside the door gazing over at the father of her child who made a spot for himself, not on one side of the bed but in the middle. No shame, no distance put between them. Something about that made her chest fill with warmth.

“You’re really infuriating, you know,” she told him pushing herself away from the door frame and stepping fully inside the room.

He looked over at her with a sheepish smile. “So you’ve told me.” She gave him a look, one she hoped he’d take as admonishment he deserved but his lips only pulled up further as she removed her sweater and got into bed with him. Turning on her side to face him, his eyes searched hers. “Do you forgive me?”

She let out a sigh and placed a hand on his cheek. With her thumb rubbing over the stubble, she told him, “It’s hard not to when you look like a puppy that's been left out in the rain and sound the way you do.” He gave a relieved sort of chuckle, then felt his hand as it caressed over her belly. “You told her?”

His eyes held hers as he replied, “I told her about us.”

Her brows rose. “Just about us?”

“Yes,” he began, and she let out a long sigh, started to roll away onto her back but his hand on her stomach slipped around to her back to stop her from moving. “I only told her about us because I want to take you back with me and tell her about the baby together.”

“You want to use your daughter and I as a shield so she won’t yell at you.” She didn’t really believe that, but she felt warranted in giving him a little bit of hell for the position he put them both in.

“No, I want her to see how happy I am. How happy you and the baby make me.”

Well, damn him and his honesty. “You're smooth, Marcus Kane,” she said with a smile, then her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in and began to trail a row of kisses down her neck. She hummed loving the feel of his lips back on her skin. “I'm still not kissing you,” she told him, a bit more breathless than she should probably be from just a few kisses.

“I wouldn't want you to get this,” he told her between kisses. “It's horrible.” With that, he pulled back and yawned.

“Do you want me to get you anything? Water or tea?”

“No, I'm okay. I just want to sleep.”

Turning on her back she reached over and turned off the light beside them. When she turned back, she lifted her arm and smiled as he scooted close, lying his head on her shoulder. “Go to sleep then.”

This time it was him who hummed softly as she raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. “You're too good to me,” he mumbled, sleepily. “As soon as I feel better, I fully intend on repaying you.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh?”

“Absolutely.” His hand came up to cup her breast, then drift down her side. “As many orgasms as you'd like.”

His head lifted and fell with the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. “Oh my God, I love you, Marcus Kane.” She kissed his forehead which she found to be less feverish than when she last left him but still warmer than normal. “Go to sleep.”

“I love you, too,” he mumbled then moved away long enough to kiss her belly and say, _And you_ , then take his place back against her again.

Abby closed her eyes, listening to Marcus’ breaths against her chest while she rubbed his back as he drifted to sleep. He may have been an idiot, but he was her idiot and she loved him regardless of it.

* * *

Morning came a lot more quickly than he would have liked. Though his head didn’t pound nearly as bad as it had the day before, his body still ached, and his chest rattled with every cough. He would have given almost anything to not move from bed but unfortunately for him, there were more pressing matters than his cold.

He watched from the bed as she got ready. As she stood in her closet in front of her clothes, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she pulled shirt after shirt, and dress after dress to inspect then replace. He’d given up telling her she’d look beautiful in anything because each time he had, she’d given him a look he’d taken to be his opinion was far from being taken into consideration.

It was fair, he supposed. To him, she could wear a paper bag, and he’d think she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

While she dressed, he showered and changed into a pair of jeans and another clean tee. It was hard not to stare at her when he came out of the bathroom. She had her hair down loose, falling in soft waves around her shoulders instead of the braid that fell over her shoulder or occasional ponytail. Both of which he loved, but down would always be his favorite.

He felt very underdressed at how wonderful she looked, even though she was wearing jeans, she also wore a long-sleeved burgundy top, knee-high boots. A smile spread across his lips as she pulled a scarf around her neck. For what must have been the hundredth if not the thousandth time he thought about how never in his wildest dream would he have ever imagined he would someday be so lucky to be with her like this. To be with her and have her carry his child.

“Ready?”  

He felt his neck heat getting caught staring at her. “As I'll ever be,” he all but croaked, closing the distance between them. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled, drew a breath from between her parted lips as he pulled her into his arms then looking up at him replied, “You don’t look so bad yourself considering how horrible you still sound.”

“I assure you I still feel it.”

She stood on her toes and placed a kiss to his cheek. “That’s why I’m going to drive today. Keys?”

He frowned. He was more than capable of driving back home but he learned arguing with Abby would get him nowhere. Taking them from his pocket, he handed them over.

Outside, his eyes swept over the neighborhood. Both of them stopped to take a look around at many downed tree limbs and even an uprooted pine in her neighbor's yard. Storms like this were common, though more so in the winter months.

“Damn, left a mark didn’t it?”

Her knowing look and soft, “Mmhmm,” was all she gave in response. In hindsight, he supposed maybe driving over there during the storm when he had been feeling as bad as he had may not have been the smartest decision he ever made, but he made it. And it had been worth it.

The drive back to his place had been quick enough. The sky outside had been overcast, and it was the kind that was so white it was almost more blinding than the sun. The clouds made him squint and wish he had left his sunglasses in the car like he normally did but for some unbeknownst reason left them upstairs in his apartment.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes. Looking over only when Abby spoke. Each of these times was to ask him how he was doing, if he wanted to stop and get something to take for the cold, and admitting her own nervousness.

His head fell to the side with that last question, and he reached for her hand that was resting on the console that separated them. “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together.” Her reply was to thread her fingers with his. He gave hers a gentle squeeze he hoped was comforting, then added, “The fact that we love one another and are raising our daughter together is all that matters. If she can’t see that and be happy for us, then that’s her problem.”

He hadn’t needed to say it again. He as much told her the same thing the night before. But as she pulled into the parking lot it all became more than just words. They were about to confront his mother, both expecting the worse.

He stood in front of the car until she reached him, then took her hand in his, leading them inside.

Unlocking the door, he and Abby stepped inside, hearing Octavia’s voice in the distance and then a pause as the door shut behind them. Octavia came out of the kitchen still in her pajamas followed by his mother, who was fully dressed.

“Hey, Dad. Morning, Abby.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” Abby murmured as Octavia stepped up and hugged her quickly before retracing her steps back into the kitchen. Her eyes never leaving anyone of them as she went.

Marcus would have snorted if he hadn’t been so on edge. His daughter was smart getting herself out of the line of fire.

Wrapping his arm around Abby’s lower back, he smiled over at her. Her gaze lifted to his and her arm fell around his waist. They gave one another knowing looks then slid his eyes from Abby’s to his mothers. “Mom, this is Abby. Abby, this is my mother, Vera.”

Abby smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Marcus has told me a lot about you. Sorry to keep him from you. The storm was a little too intense to let him drive back.”

His mother shook her head. “Nonsense, I’m glad you kept him in. It’s nice he listens tae one of us. And I’ve heard much about you, too.”

Marcus tilted his head. His eyes narrowed slightly wondering when exactly the judgment would come, but her eyes were bright and held nothing that he’d been expecting. Where was the outrage? The scandalized tone? Had she not noticed? Granted, Abby wasn’t exactly big. The only weight she’d been gaining had been only from the baby. He joked that it looked like she swallowed a football and looked at him weird until he rolled his eyes and corrected a soccer ball. But that she was. Still tiny as far as he was concerned, but it was obvious and he wondered if his mom was ignoring it.

“Mom, Abby and I are having a baby.” He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly, but he didn’t understand why she was just standing there smiling at them.

“I’m not blind, Marcus, I can see that.” She laughed lightly, then to Abby, asked, “When is the little one due?”

He looked over at Abby just as she looked up at him. Her eyes held some of the perplexity as his but nothing close to the same. With another smile in return, she replied, “February 13th.”

“Not so long now, then. Right, Abigail why don’ we go have some tea and get tae know one another? Now, I hope you don’t mind if I call you Abigail and not Abby, it’s just such a pretty name.”

“That’s fine.”

“Wait,” he began, a small bubble of a light albeit a hysterical laugh leaving him. “That's it?”

His mother gave him a look. One reminiscent of a parent who had run out of patience with her child. “Stop greetin’, Marcus. Octavia already told me about Abigail and the baby.”

“She what?” He turned to see his daughter who had been watching them from the kitchen dart out of his line of sight. He opened his mouth to tell her to come back, but his mother’s voice had his head turning back to her.

“I’ve known for months now. Why do you think I’ve come all the way ‘ere?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t… that you’d…”

“You know what they say about assuming, don’ you Marcus? While I don’ agree with some of your decisions I would never blame an innocent babe, especially not my grandchild.”

His mouth fell open but no sound came out. He was floored. Absolutely and completely floored. If she had hit him over the head with a cast-iron pan, he would have been less stunned than he was now. He didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed several more times before he swallowed and said the only thing that seemed appropriate, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Don’ you worry about leaving me out, Marcus. I’ve given you plenty of reason tea believe what you did. All is forgiven.”

He let out a breath, relieved to know there were no hard feelings even though he felt a deep sense of guilt begin to creep its way into his chest. He would again apologize to her later because as justified as he had felt before, she was his mother and he had misplaced his faith in her.

“Gran, how long are you staying?”

His daughter’s voice had him looking up.

“Till the end of the month,” she said putting her arm around Octavia. His eyes widened. Two whole weeks. She must have taken his shock for let down because she added, “I know it’s soon, but I’ve got to get back. Can’t ask Ned tae look after the place too long.”

His arm tightened around the woman beside him and he gazed down into her eyes. He let out a soft sigh, and Abby pressed her lips together.

“No, you couldn’t ask that,” he said.

“Awesome, you’ll be here for Thanksgiving.” Octavia beamed.

His mother gave his daughter another tender smile then kissed her cheek before telling them all, “Why are we all still standing in the hall leaving Abigail on her feet? Let’s all go sit down.”

Octavia and his mother took the two chairs that sat from across the couch which he and Abby both sat on. They were side by side, and he sat up instead of leaning back to mirror Abby’s posture. Her hand fell over his knee where he placed his own hand over hers.

When everyone was seated and comfortable his mom jumped right back in. “Octavia tells me you’re a doctor?”

“I was a family doctor for a long time but as you can imagine it was a very demanding job so I went into teaching a little over four years ago.”

“Abby works for the University of Washington as a full-time professor,” Marcus added because she made herself sound less glamorous than her position really was.

A look of concern flashed across his mother’s face. “How do you find that now? Working as you are and being pregnant? Is it hard?”

“At first I thought I would, but it’s been pleasantly easy going for the most part. I have a daughter, Clarke, who takes classes there during the same time so we’ve been able to commute together.”

“That’s good tae ‘ere, and not just one but two new granddaughters, then.”

Marcus looked over at his daughter and narrowed his eye perceptively. “What haven’t you told your grandmother?”

“What?” she asked, somewhat defensively. “You could have been the one to tell her if you had called...”

As shitty as he was starting to feel again, he didn’t want to get into an argument with his daughter and cut in, telling her, “Point taken, Octavia,” and let out a wide yawn that he was unable to hold back.

“Marcus, you should be restin’,” his mother said.

He shook his head. There was no way he’d leave Abby alone. “I’ll have plenty of time to sleep later tonight.”

Abby’s hand cupped his cheek and then moved to brush the backs of her fingers against his brow. A frown pulled her lips down slightly. “I agree with your mother, Marcus. You’re still not well.”

“I’m fine,” he said taking her hand and kissing the back. Turning his attention back to his mother, he ignored the drowsiness that wanted to pull him under. “We are having a girl, and Clarke is wonderful. Kind and thoughtful, just like her mother. Since you’ll be here for a while, we’ll have to ask her over when she has some free time.”

He smiled over at Abby, and she beamed at him in return. “She’d love that.”

They chatted more and more. About Abby's classes, about Clarke and losing Jake. Eventually, though, he gave in and relaxed back against the couch. His eyes grew heavy the longer they talked, he felt drowsiness covering him like a blanket and before he knew it, his head fell to the side on Abby's shoulder and knew no more.

* * *

 She felt his head drop onto her shoulder and turned her head to see just as his eyes closed. She felt another tug of sympathy for him. Couldn’t help but feel sorry all of this hit him at once.  

Vera’s eyes drew away from hers, and she softly shook her head. “Would you look at that. I knew it was a matter of time before it happened.”

Abby chuckled lightly and ran her hand over his that rested on her belly. The baby had been very active with her rising nerves that morning but now that her fears had abated, she settled down sleeping just as soundly as her father it seemed. “This flu has really taken it out of him. He tried.”

Vera nodded knowingly. It was only them in the room now. Octavia had gone with Bellamy, who showed up about an hour after she and Marcus, to get things for dinner and judging by the soft snores coming from Marcus he was dead to the world and probably would be for a while.

“He's stubborn like his father.”

“He doesn't talk about him much,” Abby replied. She knew his father passed away when he was young but other than his, _He was gone too soon,_ when she had asked and knowing it turned Vera to a more fanatical turn towards religion that’s all she really got from him on the subject. Curious, she asked, “What happened to him?”

“He passed away just after Marcus’ eighth birthday. Heart attack.”

Her heart sank. Not just for Marcus but for Vera as well. “I'm so sorry.”

“It was a shock tae us all. No one took it as hard as Marcus. They were so close. They did everything together.”

Her hand stopped its caress over his hand as an image of a little boy Marcus flashed through her mind. How horrible that must have been for him at such a young age. “I can understand that. When Jake died, it was devastating but for Clarke, even at sixteen, she couldn't understand why her father could be taken away from her so soon.”

Vera nodded. “It wasn't fair to Marcus, but I take comfort that he grew up stronger for it.”

Abby wasn't so sure about that, but she offered a soft smile, nevertheless. Later, she would bring up his father’s death to him when it was just them and maybe she could get him to open up about it all in a way he’d obviously never been able to.

Even to his mother.

“Has he asked you tae marry him?”

Abby’s eyes swept over to Vera’s. She tried to keep her heart from racing; from feeling like they were trailing on dangerous territory but it was impossible from the way Vera’s eyes bore into hers. She had the ridiculous thought of shaking Marcus awake or excusing herself to the bathroom but knew neither of them could run from the topic forever.

“No, he hasn’t.” She looked over at a still sleeping Marcus and smiled. “I think he’d like to. I know our relationship is very unconventional to you, and very much out of order but we love each other very much. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me or our family, and that goes for me as well. I love your son, very much. More than I ever thought I’d love anyone. We may have not made promises in a church or in front of a judge, but we have to one another and it’ll do until we’re both ready.”

“Well said lass. That’s something I can live with.”

* * *

“Goodnight, Mom,” he called one last time down the hall before he shut the door to his room. He turned to find Abby lying back against the pillows ready for bed, phone in hand. She looked up as he gestured to the door with a wave of his hand and said, “I don't know who that woman is.”

She laughed and reached over to put her phone on the bedside table. “And you were scared.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I was. I was terrified. And now she’s here until the end of the month.”

“She wants to spend time with her family,” she said in a low tired voice and lowered herself down further in bed.

“You’re a part of this family now, too.” He removed his tee and tossed it across the room landing it in the laundry bin then joined her in bed. Turning on his side, he propped himself up on his elbow facing her. “Abby, I’ve been thinking about what she said earlier, about being married...”  he trailed off unsure how to tell her that while he believed his mother was wrong in her beliefs, that they had to be married to be a true family, he couldn’t help but wonder her thoughts about it. He swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Would you like to get married?”

Her eyes met his. Silence filled the room as his question caught her off guard. He hadn’t meant to say it like a proposal but had just come out that way without thinking. He’d been genuinely curious, hearing what she said to his mother earlier that day and wondering if after so long being married to Jake and then losing him, if she’d want to do that all again. After Aurora he swore to himself he’d never get married again. And now there he was, utterly besotted, ready to jump in again head first without looking.

“Not so asleep, were you?” she began, her lips pulling up into something soft and not so surprised before she let out a breath. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she turned on her side to face him. “Marcus, you don’t have to ask me just because she thinks we should.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to get married just because we’re having a baby.” Her eyes searched his, for what he didn’t know only she seemed almost hesitant to be having this conversation. “Can you honestly tell me that if I weren’t pregnant you’d ask me to marry you so soon?”

Ah, so that was it. They were back to the same fears she had when their relationship was beginning. When she worried he only wanted to be with her because of the baby. He had hoped he had reassured her enough before but it didn’t seem so.

“I can’t say for sure,” he admitted, “but I can say that even if you weren’t pregnant I would know by now that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She smiled softly. “Then that’s all that matters for right now.”

“And if I were to ask you later?” he asked.

Her soft smile that appeared a moment later, giving him all the assurance he needed. “Then you’ll get my answer when you do.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. His nose. His other cheek. His eye drifted closed as he felt her lips on his brow. She drew away, but only enough for her to look down into his eyes. His own lips pulled up at the smirk he found on hers. “Besides, I’d like to be able to kiss my fiancé, but you are still sick. So any romantic overtures will have to wait until you’re better.”

Had he not been in bed, he would have been knocked off his feet. The look in her eyes was playful but had an underlying seriousness to them that stole his breath from him.

A plan had been in place, and he wasn’t about to change it, but knowing what her answer would be made his heart leap in his chest as though he had asked her those four little words.

* * *

Thanksgiving was a mess spent at the pub. With tables pushed together in the middle of the closed establishment for the holiday. The three turkeys and hams were kept in the kitchen for people to go partake, while everything else was sat out buffet style along the bar.

Abby watched her new family with a fondness that had tears falling down her cheeks more times than she could count. With Marcus and their kids, his mother and Motley Crew. They may have been big and loud, and a little rowdy but they were mostly softies. They laughed and told stories, lovingly roasted one another and raised their glasses for sticking together.

Seven months ago, she came to this place seeking the warmth and comfort of a friend, but what she got in return was more than she could have ever imagined. She was happy and found in this recognition the guilt she felt before had gone. At that moment, with Marcus on one side and a smiling Clarke on the other, she knew if Jake were looking down on them he would be happy for them.

That thought more than anything helped her let Jake go. He would always be a part of her, but his part in her story had come to an end.

She felt a hand over hers and smiled over at the man who owned her heart. He leaned over and she met him halfway in a soft lingering kiss. Her story with Marcus began long ago, but it was time to put old loves away and focus on them, on their future together.

 


	16. Chapter 16

December turned out to be a busy month for Abby and Marcus. Not only because of the approach of Christmas but also because Clarke and Octavia both shared a birthday during the month. And to get ahead of the crazy shopping season, they decided to go out and get their shopping all taken care of before it got too far into the month and they had to deal with all the rest of the last-minute shoppers.

When purchases had been made and their hands were filled with bags upon bags, Marcus dragged her into one last store, not for their teenagers but for their baby girl. It was a baby boutique with two floors of clothing, furniture, and even a drop off babysitting area for the parents who wanted to shop without having to keep their little ones from getting into everything.

Marcus left her inside to take their bags to the car but returned quickly, and they held hands while they browsed. As lovely as everything was, it was watching Marcus that had her smiling and her heart filling with love for him at how delighted he was by it all.

Her lips pulled up into a sideways smile as he lifted a tiny pair of pink aviator sunglasses. The grin on his face from them was wide and as bright as his eyes. “Too cute.”

She shook her head, but her eyes slid from his just beyond him and she made her way across the room.  

Tucked in the corner of the shop was a small room with furniture, and in the very back sat a white vintage crib that was set much lower than all the ones she’d been seeing around the shops. 

She ran her hand over the soft wood. “Marcus, what do you think of this one?”

“It’s nice,” he said coming up beside her. She felt his hand on her lower back rubbing circles that she leaned eagerly into. They had done a lot of walking and she was already starting to feel it. “I like the light color of this more than the darker ones.”

She nodded, loving mostly how this crib hit her at the hip, unlike the rest that had come to mid-chest. Picking up her daughter would be easier with one like this. Still, there was this thought in the back of her mind that wondered if this was really the style that she wanted. She let out a long breath, annoyed with her indecision, and mumbled, “Me too.”

His hand stilled. “What’s wrong?”

She turned to him. His brow was furrowed, confused by her sudden mood change and she couldn’t say that she blamed him. Shopping for the baby made her feel anxious, only because there was so much about their lives still up in the air. She like things settled and it felt like nothing in their life was. 

“Is it horrible after looking at all the cribs that I have, I still don’t know what I want?”

“No, it’s fine. We still have time,” he started to say but his words made something snap inside her.

“We have two months, Marcus.  _ Two _ ,” she interrupted because while that may seem like a long time for him, there was still so much to be done and they hadn’t even found a house yet. “So far the only thing she has is clothes. She has nowhere to sleep, we couldn’t even take her home from the hospital because we don’t even have as much as a car seat for her.”

“All right,” he said straightening up to full height and gazed around as though he were ready to pack up the whole store. “Let’s get everything. Right now.”

A light laugh left her and she shook her head. “We don’t even know where we’re putting it. Once again, all thanks to me, because not only can I not decide on a crib, I can’t decide on a house.”

“I think you have a right to be picky when it comes to a home,” he told her and her soft growl in response made him laugh. Taking her by the shoulders he turned her towards him. “Let's do this. Close your eyes.”

“Marcus…”

“Humor me, Abby. Close them.” She let out another sigh and crossed her arms across her chest. His voice was low, and soft when he said, “All right, we don’t have a house, but let's say our little girl is here…” Her lips pulled up at the image despite her agitation. “When you think of home, when you think of me putting together this crib in her room, where are you?”

“Where are  _ we _ ?” she asked, her eyes still closed but lifted a brow.

His chuckle was light and filled with amusement. “Yes, where are  _ we _ .”

She took a deep breath and pictured the scene he described. She didn’t need time to think about where she pictured them. She knew where she felt at home because her home was with him. While she loved her house, it was more often than not, empty. Clarke was always at school or with Lexa, and soon she would be off on her own. For the time being, until they found something bigger for them all, her home was his.  

“We’re at your place. She’s in the room next to yours-”

“Ours,” he corrected.

“Ours,” she conceded. “You took down the hideous painting of what you call a sunset and moved that out of the room along with the desk you never use. And you’ve painted it a pale pink because I drew the line at my daughter having a room that looks like it was painted with Pepto Bismol.” She opened one eye  to catch the look on his face, making sure he remembered the day he held up a magazine in front of her and told her they should paint the baby’s room a bright fuchsia color.

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

When both her eyes were once again closed, she felt the soft brush of his lips against hers and she smiled against them when they lingered. Eventually, he pulled away, she said, “Marcus, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just getting anxious. It feels like I’ve been pregnant forever.” She lowered her arms from her chest so that they cradled her stomach. “I want her here in my arms but at the same time I know we’re not ready.”

“Then let’s get ready,” he said, simply.

Warmed, she asked, “Yeah?”

“How about this,” he began then moved away from her, over to a wall behind her where there were pamphlets and flyers and took a slip of paper. Bringing it to her, she took the blue baby checklist from him. “Let’s get a list together and once Octavia and Clarke’s birthday party is over this weekend, you and I will come back here, or wherever you want and we’ll start getting everything.”

Her eyes glanced over all the things on the list. Some of the things she hadn’t even thought of. Many she didn’t even get when she had Clarke. What would they do with it all? Take it home and wash and put everything out until when?

“And if we find a place?” she asked, eyes lifting back to meet his. “Then we have to take everything down and maybe even paint all over again...”

“If we find a place then we find a place.” He reached up and took her face between his palms.

“Abby, painting another room isn’t a problem, and neither is taking something apart.”

“We don’t even have a name for her,” she said her voice lowering.

He gave her a small smile. “Maybe we should work on that too then.”

She opened her mouth about to agree when she heard someone gasp near her and then a voice she knew all too well.

“Oh my gosh, Professor Griffin?”

Abby turned, her eyes widening. Her former student stood just inside the room. A knit cap and heavy jacket and scarf looking like she was bundled up for a snowstorm. “Harper. Sweetheart, how are you?”

She went over, pulled the girl into a hug and drew away to find the girl gaping at her. “I’m great, but oh, never mind me, look at you!”

Her face heated at Harper’s scrutiny, and she chanced a glance at Marcus who was grinning, looking proud as punch standing next to her. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you got married, hi,” Harper said in one quick swift sentence. Abby was unable to correct her before she was already holding out her hand for Marcus to take. 

Deciding not to correct her, Abby introduced, “Harper, this is Marcus.”

“So you’re Harper,” he said taking her hand.

The young girl’s eyes went wide and she looked between them. “You know me?”

He chuckled and gave a nod. “I do. Abby’s told me many stories about her favorite student. I hear all about you on days when she comes home wishing she had more students like you.”

Harper blushed crimson. Her head fell softly to the side, and her eyes darted from him to Abby and back. “Aww, well she’s my favorite teacher so...”

Abby decided to save her from her  _ husband’s  _ attention, and asked, “How long are you in town?”

“Until classes start back up next month.” She glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone. Abby didn’t want to keep her, but she turned back looking relieved.

“How are you liking it?” she asked, “Keeping you busy?” 

Harper’s head bobbed dramatically. “It is, but I love it  _ so  _ much.” She brought her hands up pressing her palms to the side of her face which scrunched into the anxious grimace Abby had missed more than she realized. “I don’t know about next semester though. I might send a few panicked emails your way.”

Abby took Harper’s hands from her face and gave them a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Sweetheart, whenever you need anything I’ll be here.”

Harper’s face relaxed and they stood there holding hands for a few heartbeats until someone in the distance called Harper’s name.  

The young blonde looked back over her shoulder. Another young girl with dark brown hair about Harper’s age and just about as pregnant as her, waved to her. “Well, I have to get going we’re going to see a movie. I just couldn’t go by when I saw you. I had to say hello.”

“I’m glad you did.” Sad to see her go so soon, Abby pulled her into another quick hug then a thought struck her. “Since you’re in town, you should come visit with me and tell me more about school. Do you have plans this weekend? We’re having a birthday party for our daughters on Saturday.”

Harper smiled but there was a bit of hesitance in her voice. “I am free, but that sounds like a family thing. Are you sure they wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Marcus encouraged. “It’s going to be one big bash, lots of food and drinks. You and Abby can catch up and there will be many kids your age there. You can invite your friend along if you’d like.”

She beamed at them both. “Wow, okay, I’d love to.”

“Here,” Abby said and pulled her phone from her coat pocket, “give me your number and I’ll send you the address.”

She programmed Harper’s number into her phone, exchanged one more hug and another smile with Marcus before she started to step away. “It was so good to see you, Professor.”

Abby shook her head and held up a finger. “No, not anymore. I’m just Abby from now on.”

Harper laughed as she walked back toward her friend. “That might take some time to get used to. See you both later.”

With one last wave goodbye, she and Marcus turned back to each other. 

Marcus still smiling, said, “She’s a sweetheart.”

Abby couldn’t help but agree. “She really is.”

He took her hand and they slowly began to wander back around the boutique. “Back to our girl though, how about Tammy?”

She looked up at him brow furrowed until she realized he was suggesting a name for their daughter.  _ Tammy  _ Kane? She scrunched her nose. “Seriously?”

“No?” He chuckled. “What about Candy?”

Her footsteps came to a standstill. Candy  _ Kane _ . 

Poking him in the side, she chastised, “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, gathering her against his side. “Monique?”

She hummed, let the name play over in her mind and reached for a little-stuffed purple elephant. “I actually like that one.”

“I do too. I think it’s pretty.” He had a gleam in his eyes when he said, “I named Octavia, you know.”

She replaced the stuffed animal back on the shelf. Then, turned back to him, and with a teasing grin replied, “I didn’t know that. You may have baby name suggesting potential after all.”

* * *

There were many sports Marcus Kane could care less about missing, however, football and hockey were the exceptions. 

During the same time last year, he could be found downstairs watching almost every one of his teams’ games on the projection screen while drinking an ale and a burger with Roan. This year was different. Instead of downstairs, he sat up in his apartment with Abby’s feet in his lap massaging her aching ankles while she and her best friend and doctor added things to their ever growing baby list.

He promised to pay attention, but his eyes were glued to his team, the Canucks, as they aggressively took on the Oilers. It was only during the commercials he was able to take his gaze away from the television. And thankfully, Abby hadn’t minded. 

It was during one of the final breaks he glanced over. She was lying across the couch, a magazine propped up on her belly with her list in hand. Diana was seated on the floor with her side up against the couch reading over it with her, both in their own little discussion about what things for their child were really necessary and what was a waste of money.

Curious, he asked, “How’s that list coming? Do we have anything on it?”

“Well thanks to Octavia we have clothes,” she paused and waited until he had finished taking a drink of his Coke for his eyes to meet hers before continuing, “We pretty much need oh, about everything else.”

He made a face, eyes focused on the game which came back on, and had picked up in intensity and sat forward. Jesus, they really needed to quit with the fucking commercials. The bastards. Just then a thought came to him amid his annoyance, and he asked, “Shouldn’t you get some of these at a shower of some sort?”

“She keeps saying she doesn’t need a shower because she had one with Clarke,” Diana supplied. 

With this, his head turned towards them both. Clarke was almost  _ nineteen _ . Who the hell said a woman couldn’t have more than one shower? That sounded like a bunch of shit to him. “So?”

Abby rolled her eyes and he wasn’t sure if it was at his comment or the subject matter. “Traditionally you’re only supposed to get one with your first baby.”

He cocked his head to the side, blinking at her. “Since when have you ever been one who stuck to convention?”

Diana snorted. “That’s what I told her.”

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the game though now his thoughts were occupied by baby gifts and wallopers who decided on how many parties a woman could have to celebrate the birth of a child. 

“Besides, I don’t have enough friends to warrant a shower.”

Marcus looked over at Abby just as Diana said, “I resent that.”

Abby shrugged her shoulders in a sad dismissive way that left Marcus frowning. “You’d be the only one there,” Abby said, and that just wouldn’t do at all.

“We could always invite your mother-” Diana began to tease.

“No. God no,” Abby said, voice rising to interrupt her friend. She pressed her lips tightly together then with a flat stare told her, “You know why that’s not a good idea.”

Marcus took up his massage with more firmness than before, taking her mind from her judgmental mother who turned out to be worse than his and drew her thoughts back to him. She groaned and let her head fall back against the pillow. Rubbing his thumb into the arch of her foot, he grinned when she pressed her other foot into his thigh, a soft little whine leaving her lips though she pressed them together. Probably for Diana’s benefit. 

Thinking of Diana made him think of what she’d said about her lack of friends. He didn’t ever really think about it before, but he supposed other than Diana and her TA Jackson, she didn’t really have very many friends. 

But that wasn’t really true, either. “You know, you always have Echo and Anya,” he began because he’d seen the bond that had developed between Abby and his crew. “I’m sure the girls’ downstairs would be more than thrilled to throw you a shower.”

She frowned at him. “I’m not going to  _ ask  _ them to throw me a shower.”

He shook his head at that proud little stubborn streak of hers. “All right, I’ll have one for you then. Diana, I’ll need your help.”

From her spot on the floor, Diana lifted her gaze from her phone and nodded. “Consider it done, Kane.”

Abby frowned at her friend. “When did you two decide to team up against me?”

Diana narrowed her eyes over at him in thought. “Somewhere into your second trimester?”

He thought back. It’d been around the time Abby’s aversion to meat began and she called him from work telling him she’d fainted in her lecture but was fine and that she was going to see Diana before their date that night. He’d been down at the university, picking her up and taking her to Diana in less than twenty minutes. Understandably scared to death, it was during that checkup he and Diana had exchanged numbers just in case anything else happened. 

“Yeah, right around then,” he confirmed.

Going back to her phone, the blonde said, “Just leave it to me. You’ll have more baby stuff than you’ll know what to do with.”

“Why are you still here?”

Marcus had just lifted his drink to his lips and Abby’s comment nearly had him snorting into his drink. 

Diana looked up her at her with wide eyes and a grin that said she hadn’t taken offense to the question. “That’s a fine way to say thank you.”

“No, I mean,” Abby said with a roll of her eyes, “didn’t you have a date tonight?”

“Oh, I did but he hasn’t called me back to confirm.” Diana let out a sigh and tucked her phone into the sweater she wore.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll go home soon.”

With a bit of an effort, Abby sat up a bit. “You’re fine staying here. Are you hungry? We can order take out.” 

Abby lifted her eyebrows over at him as if asking if that was all right, and he nodded while saying, “Just tell me what you ladies want and I’ll get it.”

Diana tipped her head back onto the couch. “You really did hit the baby-daddy jackpot with this one.”

Abby gazed over, meeting his eyes and slid down and he suddenly felt heat rise in places other than his neck at her open admiration of him. After a moment, she shrugged and said, “Eh, he’s cute enough.”

He scoffed and gave her feet a good squeeze.

“Is he good in bed? You gotta tell me.” Diana turned more fully and waggled her eyebrows at Abby.

Grinning, Abby raised the magazine that had been in her lap to cover her face, and Diana got to her knees and leaned over like Abby was going to share a secret. 

“No, no, no,” he said and reached over taking the magazine from Abby. “You don’t get to do that and hide behind this and whisper things with me right here.” She gave it over willingly, her eyes dancing with amusement in them at his reaction. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and told them both. “I’m going to get my shoes. Decide what you want to eat.”

“Well we all know what you like to eat,” Diana called after him.

In the hall, he smirked hearing their continued laughter though he felt heat surge up his neck as he pulled on his shoes. However true her statement was, Abby wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, and even if she were, he was almost certain she had no complaints about his bedroom preferences. There was nothing to be ashamed about, especially when it was Diana who was teasing him. 

“Marcus,” Abby called to him in a tone like she wanted him to return.

“Oh, come back, I was just giving you hell,” Diana said just before he came back into the room. He came to a stop, lifting a brow at the pair of them grinning like teenagers. “I’ll be good…” Diana began as he started making his way over to Abby, “even though we know you like bad girls.”

He leaned down and growled against Abby’s smiling lips then pulling back murmured, “I’ll be downstairs, ladies. Text me what you decide you want.” With one last kiss, loud enough for both of them to hear, he told her, “I’ll punish you properly later.”

Abby beamed as he slapped her playfully on the outer thigh before heading towards the front door. 

He didn’t miss Diana’s raised brow or the smirk she sent him before he left the room. “Now there’s a Marcus Kane I can get on board with. Too bad the kink stops at sharing.”

“That it does, Diana,” he called back. 

There was no way he’d ever  _ ever  _ be into that and knowing Abby, neither would she.

* * *

The weekend came before they knew it. Marcus had risen early that morning meeting Bellamy, Lincoln, and Jasper on the empty third floor to prepare it for the girls’ birthday party. Though she offered to get up and help, Marcus had been adamant that she stay in bed and sleep in, that he and the boys had everything well in hand. She hadn’t argued. Getting further into her third trimester, sleep had been getting harder and harder to accomplish. No matter how hard she tried, she’d always wake in the middle of the night with back pain or needing to pee for what felt like the hundredth time.  

But she was able to fall back into a blissful doze after he left. With pillows tucked all around her, she managed to get some sleep until a loud thump from the floor above had her eyes fluttering open. Unable to go back to sleep, she closed her eyes, let herself wake slowly while she enjoyed the feel of her baby’s morning kicks and stretches.

A crazy, ridiculous thought came to her as she rubbed her hand over her belly. A what could have been question, where she let herself indulge in wonder that if things had been different, if she and Marcus had got together when they were a little younger, would they have had more than one child? While she wouldn’t change being with Jake or having Clarke, she couldn’t help but think that had she been younger, she might have wanted maybe one more. 

As the end of her pregnancy neared, with the end came a touch of sadness. Having her baby girl in her arms was going to be wonderful, but the feeling of carrying her was just as special. She felt blessed and at the same time somewhat downhearted knowing this  pregnancy would be her last. 

She wasn’t left with her gloomy thoughts for long because at that moment, the door to their room opened then, and she looked over to see Marcus coming in. He smiled at her, shut the door behind him and came over to sit next to her. 

“I was hoping you were awake,” he said then leaned down. Her eyes closed, a soft hum left her at the feel of his lips on hers. “I’ve got something to show you,” he murmured against her lips. 

As intrigued as she was, she was just fine with him right where he was. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair to around the back of his head keeping him there, kissing her. He made no protest, only a slight growl before he drew away. 

His hands wandered as hers did and she let out a sigh. But another moment had him pulling away, leaving her and him with looks of frustration. “As much as I am loving the mood you woke up in, Bellamy is in the living room and the teenagers will be here soon.”

Her brows drew together. The kids weren’t supposed to be there until the afternoon. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Her eyes widened. “I slept until  _ noon _ ?”

He softly chuckled and rubbed his hand over her belly. “You obviously needed it.”

While that may have been, she made a sound of disagreement. Sleeping until noon was a bit ridiculous. She should have woken up with him earlier that morning. If she had, she could have dragged him with her into the shower. She could have enjoyed some time alone with him before their weekend was consumed by teenagers running everywhere. There wasn’t going to be a bit of privacy happening at least until Monday. Huffing out a breath she ran a hand over her face. 

“Let me take a shower and get dressed and then you can show me,” she told him trying to not sound as despondent as she felt. He nodded then stood holding out his hands to help her to her feet.  _ Noon _ , she still couldn't believe it... She had been on her way to the closet but stopped. Her eyes widening. Oh no. Reaching out a hand, she grabbed Marcus’ arm. “The girls’ cakes they were supposed to be picked up at twelve-thirty and-”

He must have been prepared for her panic because he held up a hand to stop her. “Echo already went to get them,” he told her. “Bellamy is leaving to pick up the pizza soon, and Anya and Jasper already took the gifts upstairs. Everything’s done.”

She stood there staring at him feeling like the worst mother in the world even though she was flooded with relief. Her eyes began to burn and fill with tears and she saw his face fall right before they spilled down her cheeks. 

“Abby…” He came over to her and took her by the arms but she shook her head and covered her face with her hands. “Abby, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No,” she said through a sob. “I just feel like I slept through it all. It’s Clarke’s first birthday where she won’t be crushed by her father’s absence and my first one with Octavia. I wanted to spend the morning with them before their friends got here and…” she trailed off. She didn’t even know where her teenagers were. “Where are they anyway?”

“They’re both downstairs playing pool. I told them they couldn’t go upstairs until you were awake.”

She dropped her head to his chest and sniffed. At least there was that. She hadn’t missed the look on their faces. “Thank you.”

His hands rubbed up and down along her back and she felt him kiss the top of her head right before he said, “You’re welcome.”

They stood in the room for another few moments until her mood passed and she drew away. “Okay, let me shower and I’ll be out soon.”

He nodded and let her go. Thankfully she already knew what she was going to wear having picked her outfit out the night before. Taking her clothes with her, she showered and dressed. Blow-dried her hair with a roll brush curling the ends that way to save time. She dusted on some light makeup and when she was satisfied she was presentable for all of Octavia and Clarke’s friends, left the bathroom feeling more like herself. 

Marcus was waiting for her in the kitchen. Stepping up behind him she rested her chin on his shoulder. He was texting with Indra about the staffs’ Christmas bonuses. When he told her about them she had been surprised he gave bonuses. But then thought about how not many pubs gave their employees the kind of benefits he did and realized she shouldn’t have been surprised. That was why his staff had all been there for so long. He was the type of boss most employees dreamed of. 

She ran a hand up his back and rested it on his shoulder. 

“You smell good,” he said, right before he hit send and then turned on the barstool to face her. 

She smiled at him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he, in turn, wrapped his arms around her waist. She gazed into his warm brown eyes. Proud of the man he was and proud to be the woman he chose to love. “I love you,” she said then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. 

When she pulled away, he was smiling softly at her. “I don’t know what that was for but I love you, too.” 

“For being you,” she said, with a soft smile. She took a step back and with a nod, said, “All right. Show me.”

He laughed and took her hand, kissed the back before he got to his feet and leaving the apartment, walked up to the third floor.

* * *

The third floor of Marcus’ building was, for the most part, empty for half of the time he owned it. The previous owner remodeled it, knocking down most of the walls making the entire floor one big loft apartment. He kept mostly boxes of Bellamy and Octavia’s old toys, of tax forms and pub paperwork that he had saved before everything went digital. Junk, mostly. 

That was until the year he got Octavia back and wanted to do something special for her birthday. At the time, he only had the one pub so Indra was around more, and they had gone up there for some reason he couldn’t remember now. She had made the comment he could have a skating party for Octavia as big as the place was. 

As the suggestion turned out, it had been a brilliant idea. His daughter’s birthday party, he had heard, was the talk of her elementary school for weeks. And every year after that, she would beg him to have another party upstairs until it became a tradition. 

When he suggested that Clarke and Octavia share a party upstairs to Abby, she’d been hesitant to intrude on something that was special to him and his daughter. But he ran it by Octavia and she had loved the idea of a double birthday. He had thought her easy answer had been a selfless thing, a way to bond with Clarke but he had given too much credit to his teenager. 

_ They had been making dinner and as he cut around the burnt edges of his first vegetable lasagna, she jumped on the counter next to him, stole a piece of garlic bread from the pan next to her and said, “Hell yeah. More presents, bigger party. Sign me up.” _

_ He frowned at her then but shook his head. He’d take what he could get and she was willing to share her party and that was what mattered.  _

_ “You’re going to marry Abby, right?” _

_ His daughter's question had him looking up from his task and glancing into the living room making sure Abby was still deep in her phone conversation with Clarke. Satisfied she was unaware of his and Octavia’s conversation, he put down the spatula and reached for a slice of bread.  _

_ “How would you feel about that?” he had asked as he leaned against the counter next to Octavia. He had intended to ask Abby sometime in the near future and had been hopeful it would be as much as a surprise when it happened for Octavia as well, but it seemed his daughter had reached the end of her patience for the event. _

_ Octavia tore a small piece of bread off her slice, popped it in her mouth and gave a noncommittal shrug. “I love Abby.” _

_ He knew his daughter well enough to know when she was downplaying something, and her flippant answer was a dead giveaway. “She’s not going anywhere, Octavia,” he said gently, knowing he was treading on dangerous grounds. “She’s not like-” _

_ “I know who she’s not like, Dad,” she said. Her tone sharp and cut him off before he could say her mother’s name. Thoughts of her mother never consumed them for long, and in true Kane form, Octavia changed the subject. “I have an idea how you could ask her.” _

_ Marcus snorted and pushed himself away from the counter. Of course, she had an idea. Glancing into the living room once more finding Abby still on the phone he turned towards his daughter. “What’s this idea?” _

He and Abby came to a stop in the middle of the old skate floor turned designated dance floor. Tucked up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, there were three tables. One to fill with food and drinks, another for the cakes, and the last piled high with gifts. Above them, there were lights he and Bellamy had hung a few years ago that still shone brightly. Soon the room would be filled with a DJ and too many kids he cared to count. 

For right now though, he pulled his girl close and savored the silence. 

She smiled up at the lights as her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. “Marcus, it’s beautiful.”

“I don’t think we did too bad. Think Clarke will like it?”

A light laugh left her. “She’ll love it. This was a great idea, celebrating their birthdays together.”

“Only a week apart it made more sense,” he said, “And it gives them an equal celebration even though they’re old enough not to really care about who had the better birthday.”

She arched a brow. “They are, but something tells me with our teenage girls it’d be better to err on the side of caution.”

He hummed in agreement at the truth of her statement, the side of his mouth lifting into a smirk. 

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head slightly and swallowed. Not knowing how to tell her how thankful he was for her. Not just for being in his life but filling that void in Octavia’s that had been missing for a long time now. “Thank you for loving us.”

Her eyes softened and she loved a hand to place over his cheek. “It’s easy to do.”

He tilted his head down and she met him halfway. But just as their foreheads fell together the door banged open and they sprung apart to see Bellamy and Gina coming in with their arms full of Pizza boxes.

“There are at least twenty girls downstairs with O and Clarke,” his son said, “I don’t think this is going to be enough.”

Marcus blew out a breath and looked down at Abby. “You call up the girls, and I’ll go order more pizza.”

* * *

Abby remembered being a teenager but never did she remember being so… distracted. Every single one of the girls -and a few boys- at one point were on their phone. If it wasn’t in their hand, it was in their back pocket. If they weren’t taking selfies they were making videos. It was like their lives revolved around their devices, and while there were times she and Diana would text off and on for hours at a time, this was a completely different world.

As the party drew on into the evening, she began to feel more like a chaperone than a parent as her and Marcus’ part in it was for the most part, over. They'd all been filled with pizza and cake, sung Happy Birthday and unwrapped gifts. She spent quality time with each birthday girl, introduced to all of Octavia’s friends, and had a long time talking with Harper. The young girl showed up about a half hour into the festivities with her arms full of presents explaining she would have been earlier but she couldn’t decide on presents which weren’t only for the girls but her and the baby as well.

Though she was incredibly touched, Abby had shaken her head and told her she didn’t have to buy any gifts. Harper actually grinned at that.  _ “Of course, I did! That’s what birthdays and babies are for!” _ she exclaimed with all the exuberance that was Harper making Abby pull her into a fierce, motherly hug.

Well, as fierce as she could with her belly between them.

Abby let her eyes wander to each of her girls. At Clarke who was standing close talking with Lexa and Raven laughing at something, Octavia who was taking pictures with Lincoln and Bellamy, and Harper, who had been a bit shy when Jasper’s friend Monty asked her for a dance but had said yes nevertheless, was out on the dance floor laughing at her dance partner. 

But for all the energy that filled the room, she let out a wide yawn and leaned back against Marcus. “Do you think they’d notice if we took the rest of the cake and left?”

She felt his chest vibrate with his laughter against her back before he pressed a kiss to her head. “Probably not.”

“You can totally jet, boss.” A voice from beside her had her looking over, finding Jasper looking over at them. A spoon was sticking out of his mouth and he held a plate of cake in his hand. Removing the spoon, he said, “We’ll watch them.”

Marcus scoffed. “I’m sure you would.”

From beside her, Echo glowered at him. “Nice try but your break’s been over for the last ten minutes.”

“Awe, but I haven’t got to dance the chicken dance yet,” Jasper said shaking his head, mournfully. Echo rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm. With a yelp, Jasper followed, and called out, “Nice party, thanks for the cake!”

She felt Marcus kiss her cheek and then his voice whisper in her ear, “It’s after ten, I think we can leave them.”

She reached up and back placing her hand on his cheek. “Hang on, I have one more thing for the girls.” To her daughter, she called, “Clarke, honey.” When her daughter’s eyes met hers, added, “Can you get Octavia and come here?”

Clarke nodded and disappeared into the crowd. Moving away from Marcus, Abby reached into her sweater pocket and took out two small cards. Not long later, the girls came over to her, both wore curious expressions. Abby smiled at them and held out the envelopes. Each one had their names scrawled across the middle. “Your father and I are going to go downstairs for the night, but I have one last gift for the both of you.”

They each tore open the envelopes with a great eagerness. Clarke smiled knowing what the gift was as soon as she saw the gift card, but Octavia’s head tilted and her brow furrowed. “What’s this?”

“It’s for us all to use together,” she explained and turned the card over in Octavia’s hand. “A mother-daughter spa day before you both go back to school.”

“A mother-daughter day…” Octavia echoed, her eyes lifting up to hers.

She smiled, gently. “That’s right. If that’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Octavia pulled her into a careful but tight hug. “Thank you, Abby.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Abby said, eyes closing holding the girl to her as long as she could, then pulled back only enough to hold out one arm and tell Clarke, “Clarke, come here,” and pulled her into the embrace too.

From behind them, Abby heard Marcus’ voice. “Well Bellamy, we’re officially outnumbered.”

They all turned and found the boys grinning at them. “That we are.”

“You ready?” Marcus asked.

“Wait!” Octavia said, looking between them with a smirk. “You guys can’t go yet! Hang on.”

She ran off across the room and Abby stepped over beside Marcus. “What’s she doing?”

“I have no idea.”

They watched her cross to the DJ booth and say something to the young man who handed her a microphone and killed the music. “Hey, everyone, quiet!” Abby pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at how everyone stopped talking all at once at the authority in Octavia’s voice. The young girl had the same intimidating presence as her father. “Thank you. Clarke and I wanted to quickly thank our parents for this kickass party and for putting up with us all these years... So if everyone could clear the dance floor, we’ve picked a song for them and  _ only  _ them.”

Abby gaped at Octavia and then Clarke. She wasn’t going to dance in a room full of teenagers. Heat flooded her neck and cheeks. Turning to Marcus, she narrowed her eyes. “Did you know she was going to do this?”

His lips pulled up into a crooked grin no doubt at her reaction. “No, but we’d look like chickens if we didn’t get out there.”

“No, Marcus I can’t-” she began but he had already taken her hand and started walking them out onto the dance floor. 

The music had already started and she couldn’t help the way her heartbeat picked up at the familiar song. He came to a stop in the middle of the floor and smiling, put his hands on her waist. She let out a reluctant sigh and giving in, raised her hands up to wrap around his shoulders. 

She raised a brow up at him. “Toto?”

“Hey, I didn’t pick the song, my daughter did.” After a few moments, he added, “It’s pretty appropriate though.”

Her lips tugged up. “Nothing dragging you away from me, huh?”

“Not a damn thing.” The intensity in his gaze had her breath catching in her chest. 

Their eyes held through the song. He reached up and took one of her hands in his, holding it against his chest. At one point she thought he might have kissed her but they were in a room full of their daughters’ friends and probably thought better of embarrassing them. 

When the song ended, she leaned up on the tips of her toes and whispered, “Take me to bed.”

“Gladly.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and they made their way over to their girls. “Midnight. Lights, music, people who aren't female out,” he told Octavia and then slid his eyes over to his son who nodded.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “We  _ know _ , Dad.”

Marcus leaned over and kissed his daughter’s cheek before giving her a hug. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Clarke stepped over to them before they could go. “Lexa and I are going to her place. Thank you for the party.”

She shared a hug with Marcus and then with her. Tucking a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear, she said, “Happy birthday, honey.”

The last thing they heard from behind them as they left was Bellamy’s, “Goodnight, you two.”

* * *

Back inside the apartment, Marcus locked the door and tossed his keys onto the entry table. With a smile, he closed the few feet that separated them and said, “Would you look at that. We have the place all to ourselves.”

The look on Abby’s face made not telling her about the upstairs sleepover all worth it. “You didn’t tell me they were sleeping upstairs.”

“I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

“I’m not complaining.” She hummed and wrapped her arms around his middle. Her eyes were bright and dark, but her belly pressing up against his reminding him she had been yawning not long before. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair away from her face with his fingertips. “We can just go to bed.”

He almost laughed at her look of disbelief. “Are you serious?”

With a laugh, he took her by the hand and back to the bedroom where he shut the door behind them. Deprived from the morning of having her and not wanting to waste another moment, his lips found hers he walked them back to the bed and lowered them both down gently while never breaking the kiss. He hovered, ever aware of their daughter between them. He pulled away for a moment to grasp her thighs and lift her to the end of the bed. Leaning over her, he captured her lips once again while his fingertips trailed down her front. Down, down, and down until they met the hem of her shirt.

Her eagerness from earlier that morning sparked a desire for her all day, and he was determined to kiss every last inch of her skin for having to wait. They broke their kiss, the sweater she wore came off easily, swiftly and when he moved back he lowered her jeans with dedicated ease, letting the fingertips of his hands trail down the skin exposed in its wake, he smiled at her intake of breath as he did so. Her pants dropped with her shirt to the floor with a soft  _ thump _ , he ran his hands up her legs, her thighs before hooking his fingers around her underwear and dragging them down as well.

He leaned over her and looked down at her in the dim light of their room, lit only by the light from outside the window. Her eyes reflected the need for him he felt for her deep in his heart, and his gaze dropped as she reached back to unhooked her bra, a groan slipping from him as each breast was exposed. 

Jesus, she was beautiful.

Before he knew it, her fingers were undoing button after button of his shirt, and Christ, why wasn’t he touching her? He’d been staring at her the whole time, unmoving, when he could have been devouring her. 

She was looking far too intent on her task, so he lowered his head and took her lips once again. She hummed in surprise, but it quickly turned into a moan as he moved his lips over hers. She nipped at his bottom lip, and needing no further encouragement, he opened his mouth. They kissed deeply, hot and needy, tongues sliding against one another, and he moaned when he felt her hand slip between his now unbuttoned shirt to slide across his bare chest. 

Without breaking their kiss, he mournfully let go of her thighs so he could rid himself of his button up and kick off his shoes. He felt her hands on his belt and he stole one last tongue-filled kiss before pulling away, making quick work of ridding himself of his jeans. The air left his lungs as she pushed herself up and her hand stole into his boxer briefs, clasping around him. Marcus swallowed thickly and growled softly as he fumbled, pushing his pants then underwear down. All the while her hand made criminally slow strokes pausing to run her thumb over the tip of him, and when he was finally naked, he looked down into her amused eyes. She knew exactly the effect she had on him.

Two could play at that game, he thought, and he moved his hand down between her legs and he groaned, finding her slick and wet. Her head tipped back, and her breathy,  _ Marcus  _ was the best fucking thing he ever heard. He wanted to make her say his name just like that again and again. But also moan and gasp and hear her call out as she came apart around him. 

Dipping his head down, he placed a kiss to her lips, slowly lowering her back down to lie on the mattress while he began his descent. She turned her head to the side, and he peppered a trail of kisses along the column of her neck, felt her pulse pound beneath his lips. Though they were alone in the room still he strained to hear her soft intakes of breath. That wouldn’t do at all. He wanted to  _ hear  _ her. 

Pressed a row of soft, wet kisses between her breasts he told her, “It’s just us, Abby,” and then dipped his head and latched on to a neglected rosy peak.

Her fingers slid into his hair holding him to her and the room filled with the sound of her moans. The sound of her was music to his ears. A nip and swirl of his tongue and he switched breasts giving the other the same treatment for long moments while he listened to every hum, every pant, every  _ yes, Marcus  _ that left her lips.

With one last kiss to each of her nipples, he moved back and almost laughed at her huff of outrage. But when he dropped to his knees and hooked his arms around her thighs bringing her gently closer to the edge of the bed, her head fell back and she breathed a surprised, “ _ Oh. _ ”

The sight of her bare and spread open for him was almost his undoing, and he didn't stop the groan that burst from him wanting nothing more than kiss and lick and suck until she came and came for him. 

“Is this, all right?” he asked, hands skimming up and down her thighs before pressing a kiss to the inside, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it for himself. 

Her voice was a soft trembling thing when she answered, “It’s more than all right…  _ please, Marcus _ ...”

He needed no further encouragement and lowered his mouth over her.

* * *

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, and she felt liquid heat pool in her belly.

God, she wanted him.

He didn’t torture her long, thank God. The swipe of his tongue over her clit was all it took to have her cry out his name. She had loved his fingers, but God she loved his tongue. Not just the feel of him, but the sounds he made and the things that he said to her. Knowing that going down on her got him off as much as she, was just as much of a turn on. Her chest rose and fell, and she arched her back as his tongue fluttered against her with those little butterfly licks he knew that she loved over and over...

Closing her eyes, her jaw fell open feeling his hands reach up to cup her breasts. The equal attention making her tremble and tumble embarrassingly quickly towards the edge. “Mmm… God,  _ Marcus _ , don’t…  _ Mmm _ , don’t stop…”

“Never,” he said, his voice low and rough, right before he took her clit between his lips. The sensation had her arching and threading her hands into his hair.

He let go of one of her legs and she nearly came off the bed as she felt him slip a finger and then two easily into her. She was aware of how ridiculously wet she was and the desperate noises she was making but she didn’t care. 

Her hands left his hair and reach up and clutch the duvet as he thumped his fingers into that spot he knew all too well. Her hips thrust up as she arched, and his licks slowed, became a light drag back and forth across her clit that had her rocking against him and gasping, and  _ Oh, God… _ she was so close.

“Are you gonna come for me, Abby?” he asked.

Her “ _Uh huh_ ,” came out as more of a whimper than anything but then his tongue was back and giving her that slow attention she needed, and she inhaled through her nose. The feeling was acute and _fuck, fuck,_ _fuck_ was all she could think as she rocked and clutched. She reached down, hands splaying, nails dragging along his arm while his fingertips dusted and pinched her nipple.

She groaned his name, and he must have picked up on the desperation in it because his lips clamped around her clit and the feel of the rhythmic pull as he sucked had stars erupting behind her eyelids and she was falling, as wave after wave took her over the edge.

As she came back down, she was vaguely aware of him getting to his feet, of his fingers as they slid over her still sensitive clit and down into her spreading her wetness, gaining a groan from him. Her legs rose up and she bit her lip feeling the tip of him and then her eyes fluttered shut as he pressed inside. His thickness filled her, made her press her lips together even though she wanted to cry out.

“God, love, I love the feeling of you,” he told her.

Her lips pulled up. “That makes two of us,” she murmured in a low voice.

He smirked at her and then rocked back and began a slow steady in and out pace that made her bite her lip at the look on his face. His jaw dropped open slightly, eyes sliding slowly from her face and down, widening slightly as they paused on her breasts and then his hiss watching him thrust in and out of her.

For long moments they were all appreciative gazes and soft sighs, but then on the next thrust he went a bit deeper and a little sharper, her breath caught. Their eyes met, as he went slowly and gently deeper with every heavy thrust.

And God, yes,  _ this  _ was what she wanted.

She whispered hotly, “Make love to me, Marcus.”

He growled and did just as she asked. God, she loved him was all she could think. Loved him so much that, in times like this, she almost felt like she couldn’t breathe from it. He’d given her everything. His love, a home, their daughter… and through it all, they still managed to have  _ this _ . 

Underneath all that had been happening there was still this desperate need for one another. Like they were each other’s greatest desire that would never be fulfilled.

And it was that desperate feeling that carried her to another orgasm and him following after her. After he collapsed by her side and pulled her close. Neither said a word until heartbeats calmed and only then it was to whisper words of love for the other.


	17. Chapter 17

A white Christmas in Seattle wasn’t an uncommon thing, but snow in downtown only happened occasionally. And when it snowed, the city as good as shut down. So when they woke to four inches on the ground with more coming down, they decided it was as good as any weekend to stay in bed. Being on winter break, there wasn’t anywhere Abby needed to be anyway. A week away from Christmas, her shopping had been done, presents had been wrapped and placed under the tree Marcus and Bellamy drug up to the second floor.  

Their girls were the brave ones. Each of them went off with Lexa to finish up their last-minute shopping and get lunch, and stopping for a movie. It was just her and Marcus for the rest for the afternoon, just as it had been them all morning, talking and dozing in bed and feeling the baby move. While outside their window big fat, fluffy snowflakes fell, making her shiver even though they were snuggled together under a heavy duvet and quilts.

She couldn’t think of anything else that she’d rather be doing than staying comfortably in bed.

Marcus came back into the room, bringing her a glass of orange juice wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. She reached out and took the glass gratefully while he dropped down on the bed with his phone in hand. 

She grinned into her glass, loving days like this where they could wear as little as they wanted without having to worry about getting caught or covering up. 

“What are you doing?” she asked him when his attention stayed on his phone.

“Octavia showed me this app,” he said, turning towards her, resting up on his elbow. She raised a brow, placed her glass on the table beside the bed and pushed herself up higher on the pillow. Holding out his phone, he explained, “It’s a gender predictor app. I thought we could play with it and see how accurate it is.”

“Really?” Her brow furrowed. That’s how he wanted to spend their alone time without the kids?

He smiled, leaned over placing a soft kiss to her lips and asked, “Indulge me?” She let out a soft sigh but waved her hand for him to continue. It wasn’t like they had things to do...other than what they had done early that morning and again in the shower. He hummed, then clicked his tongue and said, “First predictor, if you’re carrying high, it’s a girl and low if it's a boy.”

She pushed down the blanket to expose her abdomen and ran her hand over her belly pulling the thin tank top she wore taunt over it. To her, it always felt like their child made a little home for herself right under her ribs, instead of in her pelvis and refused to drop from there. “I’d say  _ she’s  _ high.”

He got this thoughtful look as he studied her belly that made her laugh right before he nodded in agreement. “All right, second one,” he paused a moment to chuckle, then said, “if your right breast is larger, it’s a girl and if it’s your left, it’s a boy.”

With great effort, she propped herself up on her elbow to peek at his phone. “Are these real questions?”

Turning his phone towards her, his eyes were bright with amusement. “Look, it’s not me.”

She hummed and fell back against her pillows once again. Her eyes slid from him to her breasts and back. “Would you like to check on that?”

He chuckled, an amused, knowing chuckle as he leaned over and captured her lips with his. “I’d say I took a good appraisal of them earlier and they’re both about the same.”

She tilted her head to see the screen, and in doing so he scoot a bit closer to her. “All right, what’s next on your little list.”

“Next one says, wigglers are boys and calm ones are girls.”

Abby let out a light, humorless laugh and caressed her hand over her side where she’d been feeling the jabs of little feet not long ago. “Not this girl.”

“She takes after her mother,” Marcus said, his gaze following her hand. “Can’t sit still one minute.”

Abby huffed. He was one to talk. “Are there any more?”

He looked over at her. Lips twitching up. “Oh, are you having fun?” She swat at him and he caught her hand and kissed it, all while doing his best not to laugh which he failed at miserably. “Morning sickness in the evening means you're having a girl and in the morning, a boy.”

“Doesn’t really apply to me. Except for a few times in the morning.”

“Right, that’s also a load of shit,” he said, making her laugh again and swiping at the screen moving to another card. “How about this, if you crave citrus and sweets, it’s a girl, and salty foods and meat, it’s a boy.”

She made a face, agreeing with that one for the most part. “That one may have some merit, but then again the amount of buffalo sauce I’ve been pouring all over everything lately would suggest otherwise.”

He made a face. The spicy sauce in her potato soup the night before had apparently been too much for him. “Could be referring to a second-trimester craving?”

She shrugged. “Maybe?”

“All right last one.” He looked over at her, his brows rose, and she couldn’t help but think she saw a bit of anticipation in his eyes that was a bit surprising for a simple little thing they were doing to pass the time. “You ready?”

She took a dramatic deep breath and after releasing it said, “As I’ll ever be.”

He swiped at the screen, then read, “Tie a ring around a string and if it goes in a circle it’s a girl and side to side for a boy.”

His eyes held hers, making her heart thump hard in her chest. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, before she asked, “Do you have a ring?”

“In fact, I do.” She watched entranced as his hand reached under the pillow next to her, and when he  pulled it out it was closed around whatever he was holding. Abby didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until his fingers splayed open, revealing a ring that wasn’t there simply as an object to test the gender of their child. He took the ring by the white, glittering diamond band and held it between them. The larger diamond in the center was round, and shone up at her, and in not much more than a whisper, he said, “And look, already on a string.” He smiled softly, his warm brown eyes holding hers as he let it go and took it by the thin white thread holding it up. “Should we try it out?”

Her throat was so tight she couldn’t respond if she wanted to. Instead, she nodded while tears fell down her cheeks.

He held the ring over her belly, and while her heart thundered in her chest she barely registered how after a moment, the ring made a very deliberate slow circle. 

“Hmm, I’d say that’s a circle.” Their eyes met and he gave her a gentle smile. “Must work.” He dropped his hand back down along with his eyes and untied the string from the ring. When he was done, he took her hand and began, “Abby, I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I know we agreed we don’t need to be married to be a family and I still believe that's true. We’ve both loved and lost, both in different ways but in some ways I think the pain was the same… I can honestly say I didn’t think I’d ever want to put myself out there again, but then you walked through the door and stepped into my arms, and I knew I’d risk it all, even for a chance to love you.”

Her breath hitched, and his name fell from her lips, “Marcus…”

His voice lowered, as he quietly admitted to her, “I’ve loved you for longer than I should, and have only been falling deeper with each passing day. This doesn’t have to be a marriage proposal if you don’t want it to be, but Abigail Griffin, I vow to be with you and love you, our daughter, and our kids forever.”

Her voice was breathless, when she asked, “And if I want it to be a proposal?”

Hope shone in his eyes and he swallowed. “If you want it to be, I'd ask, Abby, will you marry me?”

She shook her head at him. At them. At their whirlwind romance. But mostly at how ridiculously, madly in love she was. “Yes. yes, Marcus, I’ll marry you.”

He smiled and she looked down at the feel of him slipping the ring on her finger.

In the next moment, she hummed as his lips were on hers. Gentle and burning with a slow intensity that had her trembling. Her mouth softened as his tongue licked over the seam of her lips and a moan, hers… his…theirs, she couldn’t be sure, but it filled the room around them. 

* * *

She slid her hands up his arms, and around his shoulders, fingers threading into his soft hair. She maneuvered up and pushed him on his back, straddling him, making his eyes widen and groan into the quiet of the room with surprise at how easily she managed to get him on his back. 

“You just got yourself so lucky,” she told him.

His eyes lifted to hers and found her smiling down at him. A proud, satisfied thing he loved to see. “God, I wasn’t trying to but I’ll take it.”

Her voice was a low, sexy murmur that made his cock throb when she said, “I want you.”

Hooking her hands around his boxers, he lifted up so she could pull them down. Her need for him doing things to him despite their earlier morning activities.

“Fuck, Abby you have me,” he said, and with that, she lifted up, moved her scrap of underwear aside, shifted her hips just so and slowly sank down on him. 

Marcus’s head fell back, and as he did, felt her hands on his wrists that grasped at her hips. He opened his eyes, and gazed up into her dark, needy eyes before she dropped her head back and began to slowly rock against him and he became lost in the feel of her wrapped around him.

“Good?” she asked.

“ _ God _ , Abby…” he groaned and leaned up, stole a kiss from her before dropping his head back down and biting his lip. Her deep, breathy  _ Mmm, you feel  _ so  _ good. Tell me how good it feels… _ had him clutching her hips and biting his bottom lip and  _ fuck  _ he loved her so Goddamn much. “So fucking good,” he assured.

She hummed and in doing so, released his hands, and thank Jesus because while he loved her taking control he wanted his hands on all that glorious skin. Her hips sank down, took him deep, and his cock throbbed inside her and at her words, “And this? How’s that feel?”

His hands moved up, rucking her tank up with them so he could cup her breasts. “Hot... tight... wonderful feeling you around me and watching you… God, I love watching you.”

“Me too.”

She rose, and he planted his feet, thrust up gently inside her, making her eyes widen in surprise right before they fluttered shut. He bit his lip and thrust up again. Her hand fell on his chest, her nails digging in, making him hiss, but the pain was worth it to see that look of rapture on her face. He could watch her like this forever, ride him straight into oblivion and he’d go willingly.

His hands groped her breasts in time with every rise and fall of her hips and his. But then she slowed, paused, and he looked up finding her looking down at him with this sort of need in her eyes.

Again, she began to rock, and his hands clutched her backside to help her rock on him because why should she do all the work? 

She moaned, and he chased it with one of his own. He leaned up, reached for her and brought her down for a kiss they shared until they were breathless, and only then did he draw back, gave a bit of room to gaze into her eyes. 

“I love you,” she breathed, and her words send a sharp twinge straight to his heart.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Together they rocked with him deep inside her until they’re both right at the edge, gasping from the intensity and then coming and trembling and groaning their release.

“Wow.” She slumped forward and he helped her fall carefully down on her side.

“Are you all right?” he asked just as out of breath as her while stroking his hand over her hip and belly.

He felt her bob her head against his shoulder. “I’m fine.”

He rolled toward her, hovered above her and murmured, “Come here,” against her lips before kissing her deeply.

Somewhere in his post sex-addled mind, he registered a sound that was something that sounded like a  _ bang  _ and then a slight shaking that he dismissed as the trash collectors dropping the compactor from too high once again, making the building shudder as it tended to do. 

But Abby’s lips pulled away from his. “Marcus, did you just feel that?”

The idiom,  _ the earth moved _ flashed into his mind making him laugh.

“You felt it too?” He grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows. 

She got it, and it must have been the ease in his eyes that made a soft little snort of a laugh replaced her look of worry. “Shut up.”

Their little light-hearted moment was short-lived, however, because the earth did move. The shaking felt earlier started again but multiplied by ten times that. The bed shook with such a force that had him looking up from her wide-eyed. He wrapped his arms around her, hearing the sound of breaking glass as objects fell from shelves. Hovering over her, his body tensed to protect her and the baby from anything that may fall. Her arms came up to grasp him. His heart raced while the seconds, that felt like minutes,  passed along with the shaking. 

“Oh my God,” she whispered, still clutching her arms around him.

“I definitely felt that,” he told her, sure she could hear the thundering of his heart. He didn’t want to move away from her, unsure if it was safe or that it was over. But after several heartbeats and nothing happened, he placed a kiss to her brow and began to move away from her. “Stay here,” he whispered, and got to his feet. 

Looking out the window, he pulled on a shirt. People were starting to filter out of the establishments one by one, their looks ranging in confused to astonished as they talked on their phone and made their ways to their vehicles. 

“Marcus?” she asked, sitting up.

“It’s all right, I think it’s over.” Crossing over to the bed, he held out his hand for her to take. “We should get up and go downstairs.” 

“Was that an earthquake?” she asked while adjusting her shirt. 

“It had to be.” He pulled on a pair of jeans thinking of what to do. They needed to call the kids. But Abby was already ahead of him because in the next moment her voice filled the room.

“We need to call the girls,” she said, crossing back to the bed to grab her phone on the dresser.

Her hands were shaking so much, he could see the phone trembling in them. Reaching over he took them in his.

“Abby, it’s okay.” Raising his hand, he pressed it against her cheek drawing her eyes to his. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it made him drop a kiss to her brow. “It’s over.”

She nodded and he drew away in time to catch a tear with his thumb as it slipped from her eye. Just then they both looked down as her phone began to ring. Moving away from him, she swiped it quickly to accept the call and held it to her ear. “Clarke? Honey, are you and Octavia okay?”

She let out a breath and looked over at him nodding, and he exhaled the one he’d been holding. 

“Okay, be careful.” She ended the call and told him, “They’re on their way back. Clarke says everyone at the mall just went on shopping like nothing happened.”

“Dedicated Christmas shoppers,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and make sure everything’s okay.” 

In the bar, they found everyone looking up at the TV’s, the only one who noticed them was Roan. He raised a brow probably at the rumpled look of them but Marcus could care less at the moment. 

“How’s everything down here?” he asked. 

“We lost ten bottles but that’s about all.” He pointed at the screen across the room with his phone. “Geologist on the TV said it was under a four.” 

Marcus nodded. “Everyone down here all right?”

“Everyone except Anya. Girl lost it so bad she needed her inhaler.”

“Is she okay?” Abby asked, looking around. “Where is she?”

“I sent her home. Should have sent her upstairs to you come to think of it.”

They all grew silent as a geologist from the USGS came on the screen telling the viewers the earthquake was confirmed at a 3.8 with the epicenter over in Redmond. 

He wrapped an arm around Abby, gathering her close to his side if not for her comfort but for his and pressed a kiss to her temple. “We’re good,” he told her.

She scoffed her arm tightening around his waist. “My nerves aren’t.”

They shared a look, and he rubbed a hand over her belly. No doubt both of their nerves would be on end for days, weeks maybe. There had been earthquakes that he could remember but never over a 2.3 in downtown. There had been a bigger quake in 2001 but that had been a year before he moved to Seattle and only heard about it through some of the locals following one of the smaller quakes.

“Mom!”

“Dad!”

They turned just in time to see Clarke and Octavia making their way over to them. “Hey,” he said when Octavia threw herself into his embrace. “You girls okay?”

“We’re fine.” Clarke nodded.

Snowflakes stuck to their hats and coats reminding him that on top of everything that had happened, it was still snowing outside. 

“Are you kidding, that was awesome.” Octavia started, “You should have seen the people at the mall. Some of them ran off with things and a few even got caught outside. Dumbasses.”

“Octavia…” he began to scold.

But Abby took his teen by the shoulders, looking at her, then Clarke in turn. Sweeping her blonde hair away from her face. “Are you guys, okay?”

“We’re fine,” Clarke said.

“Wait, hold up.” Octavia reached up and took Abby’s hand then looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you ask her?”

He shared a smile with Abby. “I did.”

If it were possible, Octavia’s eyes widened even more, looking ready to jump up and down in place at a moments notice. “And you said yes?”

Abby laughed. “I don’t think he’d have let me have the ring if I didn’t.”

“Oh my God! Yes!” Octavia squealed and did jump in place. “When?”

Letting out a laugh, he led up a hand. His daughter’s excitement would be the death of him. “We haven’t got that far yet, Octavia.”

“It’s about time,” Clarke said with a smirk that Marcus returned.

Abby looked between them all, then settled her eyes on her daughter. “You knew?”

Clarke gave Abby a look like the question should have been obvious. “Of course, I did. Who do you think he asked first?”

She looked up at him with something akin to amazement in her warm eyes. “You ask Clarke for permission?” 

His lips lifted into a smile. “For her blessing,” he corrected.

She smiled, and then reaching up brought him down to kiss her despite the groans from their daughters and the fears they had from the earthquake. Wrapping his arms around her, for a moment he let his thoughts be only of her, of the softness of her lips and how she had said yes.


	18. Chapter 18

The day before Christmas Eve, Marcus had talked her into going with him for a drive. The snow that had fallen the week before had melted, but the streets and trees stayed puddled and slick from the ongoing rain. However, that afternoon was one of those rare days in December where there was a small break in the clouds and the sun came out. One of the days they didn’t like to tell out-of-towners about just in case the inclination of moving there arose.

She thought his suggestion for the drive had been partially to put their daughter to sleep. Car rides, they discovered, was the easiest way to get her to settle down when she was overly active. And that afternoon, she had been all stretches and tumbles, making Abby feel nauseous. But she soon discovered he had a destination in mind, one he wasn’t willing to share with her until they arrived.

“But why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” she asked, looking over at him curiously but also appreciatively. Loving the look of him in a hoodie cargo jacket and scarf, and the beard with the dusting of gray and longer hair.

He looked over at her, full smile, happy as could be and took her hand lifting it and kissing over her finger that wore his ring. “Because it’s a surprise.”

As glad as she was that he was excited, she still hated surprises. But she supposed, to be fair, all of his turned out to be not so bad. “What kind of surprise?”

“I have something I want you to see.”

She sighed and held her hot chocolate between her hands, letting the heat from it warm her cold fingers. “We should really be getting the rest of the gifts wrapped while Octavia and Clarke are gone, since  _ someone  _ thought they needed a few more...”

She let her words trail off while giving him a look.

He chuckled, never taking his eyes from the road, missing her look but not the emphasis in her tone. “We will as soon as we’re done here.”

Sitting back in her seat, she decided not to push it further. It was an afternoon with him and her and she’d take it. She sipped her drink and looked over the city, wondering how their girls were doing with Lexa. She’d been wary about letting them go skiing but Snoqualmie Pass was safe with family-friendly hills, and only thirty minutes away. They were only going to be gone a few days and it was hard to say no to Octavia who had been so excited to have Lexa teach her to snowboard.

Blinking, she realized she recognized the neighborhood around them and with a furrowed brow asked, “Are we going to the college?”

“Nope. Close though.”

She tilted her head at him and pursed her lips. Close? Where would he take her that would be close? Oh. “Are we going to Huli-Huli?”

And just like that, she was famished. But much to her disappointment, he shook his head.

With a glance over at her, he said, “One of these days I'm going to take you to Hawaii because I know you think that’s good Hawaiian food but it’s not.”

She held up a finger. “Okay, Huli-Huli is amazing, and I won’t have to speak ill of it.” She gave him a warning gaze that only made him laugh. A thought struck her then and she added, “But I wouldn’t mind a trip to compare.”

He hummed, and she rolled her eyes at the knowing look on his face. “Maybe add it to one of your honeymoon destinations?”

She smirked, thinking,  _ already done _ .

Instead of going to the university, he went around it. Drove up Montlake Boulevard and followed the road around Lake Washington into Laurelhurst neighborhood. If Octavia thought Hawthorne Heights was fancy, her small little turf had nothing on this part of Seattle. He took a one-way street down the side of the lake that took them into a neighborhood with trees and well-groomed landscapes and large houses.

Abby looked over at him with wide eyes when he parked along the side of the road in front of a two-story - no, _ three _ -story red brick and white wood house with a large wrap around porch, not on the first floor but on the  _ second _ .

“Marcus, what is this?”

But he was already out of the car and coming around to open her door for her. She gave him an apprehensive expression but he shook his head. “Don’t worry, I have a key.”

Taking his hand, they crossed the small street and took the flower-lined path up to the home. She couldn’t understand why they were there. There were no for sale signs, no indication that the home was on the market like all the others. She would have thought he was taking her to someone's home. A friend or acquaintance, but surely he would have told her if they were. Besides, the absence of vehicles in the driveway made her think there was no one home even if he hadn’t told her he had a key.

The first floor turned out to be more of a basement that he had said he would show her later, and they took the stairs that lead up to the porch on the second. He unlocked the door and she stepped inside.

All right, had nothing else tipped her off, the emptiness inside might have been her biggest hint that the house was for sale. He must have found it before it was advertised.  

When the door closed behind them, Marcus smiled and took her hand again. The front door opened into a large open area with white walls, dark hardwood floors and a brick fireplace. She could see over into the kitchen to her right and just to her left, an entry that led into another room. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he took her to the left and she was amazed to find it was a large living room with another fireplace and built-in bookshelves and reading nook under a large bay window along the back wall.

“It’s nice,” she said, though nice was an understatement and he knew it.

He laughed. “You haven’t even seen it.”

They went into the kitchen next, and she tried hard not to swoon at the stainless-steel appliances, burnt amber wood top counters, and walk-in pantry. She wasn’t much of a cook, but it was the kind of kitchen that could inspire her to be one.

“Is this whole floor kitchen and living room?”

He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, uh, no. There’s a small bathroom down the hall, and then a door that goes outside and there’s a sauna.”

Her eyebrows rose. “A sauna?”

He shrugged. “Think of it as a nice perk. Should we go upstairs?”

She bit her lip, to stay her smile, and murmured, “Lead the way.” The stairs and third floor had the same dark wood and she tried to count the doors around them when they reached the top, but Marcus was already taking her into the first room. “How many rooms does it have?”

“Five,” he told her. “Six if you want to count the small office on the first floor as a bedroom. Which is also where the family room and laundry room are.”

Her amazement pulled her lips up even though a voice in the back of her head whispered,  _ too much _ .

The rooms upstairs were each a different color. A smaller one in butter yellow, two more only slightly bigger in robin’s egg blue and light mint green, and another in a light lavender that was designed like an attic bedroom with slanted ceilings and a large double-hung window overlooking the lake. A perfect room for Octavia, she thought.

The bathroom situated between the smaller rooms was tiled in light grey marble with double sinks, lantern lights, and large tub.

Finally, Marcus took her into the room she’d been anxious to see and she wasn’t disappointed. The master bedroom was the largest with ivory white walls and large windows. If she liked the view of the lake in the other room this one stole her breath away.

Marcus stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets. She met his eyes and they slid from her to a door at the side of the room. The closet. He knew her well. She made her way over, trying not to seem too eager to see it but failed miserably when she opened the door and gasped. Hell, even the closet had a window. There were shelves and dressers along each wall with enough room in the middle she could put a small bed in the center and live in there. It put her closet at her home and every closet she’d seen thus far to shame.

After seeing almost everything, the bathroom was exactly what she expected. Gray marble counters, white walls, and a large stationary window she could look out from the large garden tub and see the tops of the pine and maple trees and houses of the neighborhood. And if that wasn’t enough, a open separate shower in the corner that was large enough she and Marcus could share.

She walked out of the bathroom, her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself from touching everything more than anything and looked over at him.

He raised a brow. “Well?”

“I’m hesitant to say that I love it.”

“I thought that you might.” He came over to her with that ridiculous, smug smile of his. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her snug against him and dipped his head. She closed her eyes and hummed against his lips. They kissed for many moments, and when he broke away his eyes lifted to look behind her and said, “Look, you can see Husky Stadium and your building from here.”

With a hand to his chest, she gave him a light push away from her. Turning she went over to the window, and indeed she could see the university. And just like the bathroom, she could also see the other houses in the neighborhood. All of them just as grand, just as magnanimous as this.

She loved the house, but she knew enough about real estate to know this house couldn’t possibly be in the price range they set. “Marcus, this is too much.”

“You wanted a nice house with five rooms.” He held his arms out wide as if to say,  _ this  _ was it.

“A  _ house  _ not a mansion.” She laughed. Let her eyes roam around the room imagining his large bed and all their things filling it. “How much is it?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She gave him a look. A long measured look she hoped he took seriously. “It does matter? It matters a lot.”

“The money we spend on the home that we buy for our family shouldn’t.”

She took a deep breath. “While I agree, for the most part, I don’t want to buy something that will ultimately bankrupt us.” She walked over to him and playfully took him by the coat and asked, “How much is it?”

“A little over three.”

She stared at him, and he at her, unblinking. She felt her heart sink. “Please,  _ please  _ Marcus, tell me you mean hundred-thousand.”

He smiled a small smile. “That would have been nice.”

He was serious. And he still wanted to  _ buy  _ it? “Marcus, we cannot buy a three-million-dollar house.”

“Why not?” he asked, “You love it and it’s close to the university if you were to go back. Besides, it’s your Christmas present.”

She let go of his jacket and took a step back. Was he saying? No, he wouldn’t have. Would he? “Wait. First, you cannot give me a  _ house  _ for Christmas, not when all I’ve got for you is socks and season tickets to a game.”

His eyebrows shot up and his head tilted to the side. “Which game?”

She ignored his eager look, pressed her hands into her lower back that had begun to ache and as if she hadn’t heard him continued, “And second, _ if  _ I go back to work?”

He looked truly nonplussed by her reaction. “What? I assumed you'd take some time off after the baby is born. You've said as much.”

“Time off to rest after having our child, but not quit.”

“You don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

Her laugh came out as more of a scoff. “Are you kidding? I’ll need to if we buy this. Can you imagine the taxes on something like this…” her words trailed off as he looked away from her. His gaze falling to his hands that he studied with a deliberate attentiveness. “What? Marcus?”

“Hmm?”

It was then she realized there was no  _ if  _ they bought this because he already had. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Dropping his hands, he straightened his posture and told her, “They needed an answer. Someone else would have bought it if I hadn’t acted right then.”

“Right then?” she challenged with an arched an eyebrow, because she highly doubted it would have gone in the time he could have made a simple phone call to her and also because her ire was well and truly up.

He brought a hand up and rubbed his forehead, a light laugh spilled from him as his hand dropped. “Are you upset about this?”

Abby blinked at him. Was she upset? She dropped her hands by her side and sighed. Had he not expected her to be? Suddenly, she felt tired. “We should really get back.”

She started to walk from the room, but he caught her gently by the arm. “Abby?”

“No, not right now.”

“You’re upset.”

She looked up into his eyes and it was the honest, bewildered gaze staring back at her that set her off.

“No, I’m more than upset. I’m furious.”

“Why?” he asked.

“How do you not understand why I’m upset?” She moved away from him. “Buying a house without telling me? This is… I don’t even have the words for it. If we’re going to be married, if we’re going to be partners, I need to not be afraid my husband isn’t going to make big decisions without me but will include me in those decisions. Buying a three- _ million _ -dollar house, Marcus, is a  _ big  _ deal. Would you go out and start up another pub without talking to Indra?” He opened his mouth to respond but she didn’t wait, they both knew the answer. “No, you wouldn’t, because she’s your partner and because you know she’d kill you for it.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he told her, voice rising with a bit of plea to it. “Abby, we have the money for this, you know this. I’ve spent my life investing well and living simply. This doesn’t break the bank. Not even close. I don’t see why I can’t give you this.”

“Because it’s too much.” She shook her head and looked back out the window. “You should have included me.”

“So you could be stubborn about it?”

She looked over at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His lips pursed together almost as if he immediately regretted the words that left him. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“You think I'm being stubborn? Weren't you the one who told me I had a right to be picky?”

“Picky, yes, but not unreasonable.”

Her eyes widened. “So that's what you think I'm being?”

“With this, yes, I do.” He apparently decided to stand his ground because his hands rose to his hips and his jaw set. “You're worried about finding a house before the baby gets here, and I've found us one.”

“You didn't consult me, Marcus. You didn't involve me in the deci-”

“Because I had to make a decision right then,” he interrupted reiterating his point. “It was priced incredibly low for what it’s worth and I knew as soon as it was on the market it would be gone. I made a decision for our family. For you.”

“Exactly you made the decision for me,” she threw back. “We’re going to get married, Marcus. Husbands and wives don’t buy million-dollar houses without talking about it first, without letting the other at least see it.”

“I knew that you’d love it,” he said, “and I was right.”

“That’s not the point,” she told him voice rising above his.

He turned away from her, walked back into the middle of the room putting distance between them and swore. “Why do you have to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Be so unyielding, so  _ frustrating _ .” He threw a hand in the air. “Pick an adjective.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she looked down at the tips of her boots. “We need to go home and get the rest of those gifts wrapped.”

“Abby, I understand why you’re upset. I  _ hear  _ you, but we need to discuss this rationally.”

She laughed and wiped away the wetness from her cheeks. “Oh, so now I’m not rational?”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head like the fight had gone out from him. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he began quietly. “I only wanted to make this easier for-”

But she didn’t want to hear anything more from him so she interrupted with an equally quiet, “I’ll be in the car. Lock up our... house when you’re finished.”

* * *

He’d never slept on his own couch before, okay, he had. Once. Only because he hadn’t wanted in the bed with the woman sleeping in it.

This time, however, he did want in the bed.

When Abby came out of the bedroom into the living room carrying a pillow and blanket, he knew what it’d meant. He sighed and looked hopelessly after her as she turned and left. He could have slept in Bellamy’s old room turned guest room but felt he deserved where his decision making had got him.

And it was there in the dark, quiet room where he looked up at his ceiling, he asked himself repeatedly what the fuck he’d been thinking. He had answers for each excuse he could come up with but none of them seemed very good now.

What could he say? He’d fucked up. Utterly and thoroughly.

He assumed she would be surprised, shocked and maybe a bit put out for a few minutes because it had been a large purchase, a big decision but in the end, would be pleased. He’d wanted to take the pressure off her, to lift the burdens and questions she had and bite the bullet for them.

It had everything she wanted. It’d been remodeled, repainted, inspected and given the go to be placed on the market. The owner wanted the house gone and had priced it accordingly. Marcus had only found out about it because it was his realtor’s uncle who was selling it.

In hindsight, he could have taken the phone from his pocket and called her. It would have taken a moment to do. But fuck him and his ridiculous romantic sensibilities, he’d been struggling to find her the right gift for Christmas and he had wanted to give it to her.  

He snorted into the room. He should have listened to Roan. The only other person who knew about the purchase after he had made it. His manager had given him a look that Marcus had taken to mean he thought him to be crazy and said, “She isn't going to like it.”

He had scoffed and shaken his head. “Nonsense, it's perfect. She’ll love it.”

“Whatever you say,” he’d replied and went to place the liquor order.

Only now did he realize that his manager hadn’t been talking about Abby not liking the house, that was never in question, but that he bought it without talking to her about it.

He could call his lawyer. His agent. There was a way out of the contract, he was sure. Allie would no doubt tell him to drop dead and find a house on his own after this, but he’d risk it. The only trouble was how much he’d end up losing by doing so. Whatever it was, it was a price he was willing to pay. Whatever it’d take to get him back into bed with Abby.

* * *

She made an excuse to go to Hawthorne heights the very next morning saying that she left a present for Clarke before grabbing her purse and keys and marching out the door. Truth be told, she needed the time away which was hard to come by seeing that it was Christmas Eve and the girls and Bellamy would be over later.

At home, in the quiet of her house, she wandered from room to room. Unable to sit still with her nerves still on end and a feeling akin to guilt in her chest at not having said goodbye or that she loved him before she left.

But there was a mantra that refused to leave her mind.  Like a drum, it beat to the staccato tune of  _ three… million… dollars…  _ over and over again that left her with a headache from it and from crying.

It wasn’t until about two o’clock in the morning she had been able to calm down and let herself think about how’s and why’s Marcus had done what he had.

He had the money. They were able to afford it. When they started looking for houses they put a cap of just under one million but because that had been  _ her  _ absolute highest. And he agreed with her that they didn’t need anything above that. Even if they did have the money.

With three kids in college and a baby on the way, not to mention a wedding in the near future, all of that would involve money. 

And then there was him suggesting she not work. All of it put together was all just so typically  _ male  _ of him, she wanted to scream.

Okay, maybe not scream but made her feel like she wanted to strangle something.

Eventually though her heart had taken over from her head and she thought about how he looked when he told her it was her Christmas present, how proud he was when he lead her up the steps, how he took her into the middle of the light, mint green room and told her to imagine a crib in it and her stubborn resolve melted into a puddle at her feet.

Taking her phone from her jacket pocket, she brought up the name of the person she needed to talk to, the person she had sent a text to in the middle of the night who told her to call her in the morning when she wasn’t  _ busy _ and pressed call. She didn't need to wait long for her friend to answer and when she did, Abby blurted, “He bought me a house for Christmas.”

The sound of people talking in the background and then the suspicious noise of milk being steamed made her think her friend was in some cafe up in the mountains where she was vacationing getting coffee and sure enough, a voice in the background called out, “Quad white mocha on the bar for Diana!”

Lucky bitch.

“He bought you a what for Christmas?” Diana asked.

“Marcus bought me a house.”

There was a pause, for Diana to take a drink of her beverage or for her to process what Abby had told her, she didn’t know. Eventually, Diana said, “And we’re upset by this why?”

Abby’s lips tugged up at the “ _ we’re _ ” because as rational or irrational as she was being, it was nice to know her friend always had her back. “Because he didn’t bother to consult me before he went out and bought a house.”

“Is it hideous?”

Abby blinked not expecting that to be the first question her friend would ask her. She thought about the house, how much she loved it and the location. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “No, it’s beautiful and perfect and pretty much everything I wanted.” She sank down onto the couch. “God, Diana I want to be so mad at him.”

“But you’re not because now that you’ve settled down, you realized you really  _ want _ it.”

They both knew she wasn’t asking a question. Her friend knew her all too well. “I do.” She let out a soft growl admitting it out loud. “Why are men like this?”

“Well, I don’t think you can ask that about most men. Not all of them go out and buy a house for their baby-mamma, excuse me, fiancé. Especially not one as cute as yours who knows he can get away with most anything.”

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” she huffed, rubbing her hand over her belly.

“Oh, stop whining. You said it yourself you want it. And it can’t be the money that bugs you because we both know he has it to spend. You’re mad he didn’t tell you and let you get the final word.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe my ass. You made all the decisions when it was you and Jake and now Marcus has taken that power from you and it annoys you.”

She clicked her tongue at the ceiling. “He also told me I didn’t have to go back to work.”

There was another pause, and then her friend’s indignant voice filled the line. “Okay, now that bastard crossed the line.”

Abby laughed, and God it felt good. “Shut up.”

Diana chuckled right along with her. “You want my honest opinion?”

“Ugh, I have a feeling I know what it’s going to be but go ahead.”

Her tone was soft, yet serious. “You had every right to be mad at him for not discussing it with you. He was wrong about that. But you love it, and you want it. I think you’re being a little hard on the guy.”

“I am,” she agreed and ran her hand over her face. On top of not sleeping well, the weight of the stress from arguing with Marcus was starting to come down on her, leaving her feeling drained. “God, now I feel horrible.”

“Oh, don’t,” Diana said, “Go and give him some of the best Christmas sex he’s ever had, and he’ll forget all about your little mood swing.”

She hummed softly, knowingly. “Think that’ll do it?”

“It’s Marcus we’re talking about. The man has worshiped the ground you walk on since forever.”

She warmed at her words knowing that they were true, though she wondered how his admiration for her had been so obvious to everyone but her all these years? “I know you’re right.”

Abby heard Diana’s name called, and then her friend’s smiling voice tell her, “Ugh, I gotta go. Text me how it goes and when I get back into town, I want to see this new place of yours.”

“I will,” she told her then hung up the phone.

Staring at the screen, at the selfie of her and Marcus that Octavia made her background, she decided she was done being upset with him. That it was time to go home and tell him how sorry she was, then sit down with him and discuss their new home.

* * *

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Marcus let out a long, tired sigh. “All right, thanks, John. No, I know I’ll lose the earnest money, that’s not an issue. She didn’t like it like I thought she would.” The man on the other end of the line scoffed, and grunted,  _ Women. _ Marcus closed his eyes, and echoed a half-hearted, “Yeah, women.”

Ending the call with his lawyer, he put his phone down on the bar, and feeling his managers eyes on him, looked up.

Roan raised a brow. “She didn’t like it?”

“Not so much that she didn’t like it, she did,” Marcus said, “she just wasn’t very impressed I bought it without telling her.”

Roan’s look was one of pity and it made him bristle, made his thoughts fill once again with his own self-loathing. “Give her a few days to settle down. You can’t spring shit on women like that. I thought you knew better.”

Marcus deflated back against the barstool. “I thought it’d be a nice gift.”

Roan shook his head and finished off the last of his ale before answering. “The trick is, you gotta make them think it was their idea. How do you think I got Echo to agree on buying the bike?”

Marcus smirked. “And here I thought it was all your warm charm.”

Roan narrowed his eyes at him right before rolling them skyward, and explained, “I took her there, showed it to her, told her how sexy she’d look on it, then pretended to hate it. Two hours later I drove the bike home.” His manager smirked, and he watched as Roan dropped his glass into the dishwasher then took Marcus’ own empty one and put it beside his, closed the door, and flipped it on. “Okay, other than locking up, she’s ready to go come Monday.”

Marcus’ gave him an attempt of a smile. “Thanks.”

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out with that before I go?” Roan asked gesturing with a nod at the inventory orders.

“No, I’m almost done. Go spend the holiday with your wife.”

Roan donned his jacket from the peg on the end of the bar and with a clap on the shoulder, he said, “See you, Monday.”

“Later,” he called listening to the sound of the younger man’s footsteps as they grew quiet then silenced with the close of the door behind him.

Taking the orders from where they sat in front of him, he sighed in frustration at them. Maybe it was all the other things on his mind, but the numbers hadn’t made a bit sense. They’d delivered too many barrels of Guinness and not enough bourbon and… -his eyes widened-  _ three  _ fucking cases of Mango Malibu Rum?

Christ, now he needed to go check the inventory because whatever Roan had been doing when he made the order didn’t involve paying attention to details. It would take  _ years  _ to go through that many bottles of the fruity shit they called rum as his clientele wasn’t exactly the fruity drinking type.

Damn waste of good alcohol if you asked him.

Sure enough, his count downstairs confirmed he had twenty-five bottles of mango rum instead of regular.  _ Fucking Jesus _ . Marcus blew out a breath. He couldn’t call his supplier being Christmas Eve, but he could send the wallopers an email.

* * *

Pulling off the freeway and into downtown, Abby let out a sigh as the light turned red. How she managed to hit almost every single red light from her house into downtown had been beyond her. She just wanted to get back home. She wanted to tell Marcus she was sorry and kiss his stupid smile away. Because he would, the moment she admitted that she had been maybe a bit irrational, he would smile like the smug, adorable idiot that he was. Then after, she wanted him to hold her and tell her how much he loved her despite her stubbornness and then maybe drag him into the bedroom and take a much-needed nap.

She let out a yawn. The best Christmas sex and talk about the house could wait until later.

Abby tapped her thumb on the steering wheel, growing impatient, when the light remained red despite the light traffic in the opposite direction. Apparently, her nap, along with everything else, would also have to wait. Luck didn’t seem to be on her side today of all days.

When the light finally turned green a few moments later, and she followed the line of cars from under the overpass and down 1st Street towards the pub. Not until the traffic slowed for no reason did Abby notice her car felt like it was going over bump after bump after bump. Many people began to pull off the street, and she followed thinking there was construction somewhere close by. But then she looked up and saw that the signs, traffic signals, and buildings around them were shaking.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, feeling her heartbeat beginning to race. The cars in front of her all came to a stop, and she threw her own in park, and clutched her belly, whispering words of comfort to her unborn child though she felt none of them while the earth once again rocked beneath her.

Her thoughts flew back to the week before, when Marcus’ building shook all around them and the fear that gripped her heart then. Yet, there with Marcus, the shaking stopped almost directly after it begun. Here alone, she felt like the shaking would never end.

Though the car was in park, it swayed from side to side. She heard the tires squealing on the payment. The sounds of screaming from people on the streets, the shuddering and thundering crash as a street light came down behind her. Transformers popped and sent showers of sparks to the ground as power poles rocked.

And when, what felt like minutes went by, and the shaking still hadn’t ended, she closed her eyes and began to chant, _Stop._ _Oh, God, please. Please stop. Stop!_

Just when she thought she might release the scream that she had been holding back, the shaking ceased. Slowly, she opened her eyes to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, and to her relief saw a police officer had pulled off to the side of the road in front of her car and was walking towards her. The look on his face could only be described as dumbfounded.

She lowered her window. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, tears were falling down her cheeks, but she was okay. She let out a breath and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You need to go home. Reports are already coming in there’s been damage to downtown. It’s not safe for you to be out.”

Home. Oh, God, Marcus. “Where in downtown?”

“All over, ma’am. Avoid the highway and get home safely.”

She watched in a daze as he went to the next car, checking on the occupants, probably to give the same warning.

Marcus.

She fumbled for her phone, put her car back into drive and pulled back onto the street. Tears continued to stream down her face as she brought up his number and pressed send but the call went straight to voicemail. She tried again and again with the same result. She pulled up her daughter’s number to try. She had to find out about the girls. They were supposed to be on their way home.

Her daughter's voice suddenly filled her ear startling her. “Mom?”

“Clarke?” she managed to get her name out in a choked sob. “Honey, are you and Octavia okay?”

“We’re fine. We’re still up here. Are you okay? Was it bad there?”

Looking all around her, she saw the little cafe she drove by earlier that morning had half collapsed in on itself. The freeway, the one she just got off was cracked along the side, and up ahead she could see a gap where a section had collapsed.

“It’s… not looking very good. I just got into downtown when it hit. There’s a lot of damage. I’m on my way to Marcus,” she paused taking in everything that had happened. The people she passed on the streets crying and standing in a daze as though they had no idea what to do, hoping and praying that Marcus had gotten outside and it was just his service that was out. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Mom.” Clarke said, “The cell phone towers are probably just too busy. We’re heading over there now.”

“No, honey, not yet. You don’t know about the roads coming from there and there could be more,” she insisted feeling her anxiety start to rise thinking of the girls driving around in this. “You and Octavia stay put with Lexa’s and I’ll call you when I can.”

“Mom, be careful.”

She sucked in a breath. “I will, honey. Stay there. And try and get a hold of Bellamy, make sure he’s okay. He should still be with Gina in Olympia. Tell him to stay put too. I’ll call you when I get to Marcus.”

* * *

Walking into his office, Marcus came to an abrupt halt just inside.

His brow furrowed feeling the floor shudder. There was a rumbling sound and he had time to think,  _ God, not again, _ before the walls around him shook and the ceiling above him rippled and groaned. Pictures fell off the walls, the sound of breaking glass joined with the creaking and cracking of the pub as the wood rippled violently.

He looked up in time with a loud  _ snap  _ from above him and the last thing he remembered was a searing, intense pain before his world went black.


	19. Chapter 19

Abby’s breath caught in her chest as she pulled up just outside of the pub. There were bits of brick and wood from his building scattered all over the sidewalk, on top of cars, and on the street. The front windows had been shattered, the pieces of glass lay in broken pieces along the ground. The door hung precariously from its hinges, its frame askew, as though it might fall at any moment and from above it, a large crack that ran up the building.

Double parking the car, she got out and headed for the front door. She knew that she shouldn’t go in, but Marcus was in there somewhere, she knew it, and she had to find him.

Inside the pub was complete silence. The small tables and chairs were covered in a thin layer of dust and debris from the ceiling. Pictures that once before hung on the walls, were hanging crooked or lying on the floor, and pieces of brick from the fireplace where lying in small heaps. And the bar, the beautiful cherry wood, was littered with bottles of liquor that had fallen from the shelf behind it.

She stood there, her heart in pieces, much like the room around her. So many memories. She pressed her lips together, and her eyes gazed up to the ceiling, the floor above, that had become her home.

And just like that, panic swept its way back into her chest and she called out, “Marcus!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks when moments passed, and she received no answer. Before she left that morning, he told her he had some things to do downstairs. Some orders he had to take care of. She hadn’t answered him. Only met his eyes for the briefest of moments as a sign of acknowledgment before she looked away and left. She brought her hand up to her mouth, covering a sob. God, how could she have been so horrible?

She had to find him. If he couldn’t hear her down there, he had to be upstairs.

Making her way carefully down the hall and towards the stairs to their apartment, she stopped, her breath hitching when she felt a sharp pain in her side but ignored it when she heard a noise. But the faint sound was gone as soon as it came. “Is anyone here? Roan? Marcus?”

Silence.

She thought about all the faces that filled the pub. Of Anya and Jasper, of Wick and Lincoln. The new chef, Sinclair and of Raven, who Marcus had hired as a waitress a couple weeks back. But thankfully, the pub was closed for the holiday and no one besides Marcus or Roan should have been there.

The groan from above her was the only warning she had before the building jolted and shuttered once again. Abby moved quickly into the restaurant, about to get under one of the tables, but the shaking stopped just as soon as she reached it.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against a table, breath coming out in great gasps from her fears, and the fresh wash of tears filled her eyes. She took a slow deep breath and then another and told herself she could do this. She would find him, and they’d get out of this. Pushing herself away from the table she called out his name as loud as she could, but to the same end.

She reached inside her jacket pocket and fumbled for her keys to upstairs but stopped when she heard her name. She listened, held her breath and heard it again, coming from the hall not far away that led downstairs.

Oh, God.  _ Downstairs _ .

She darted toward the hall and braced herself at the stop of the steps. Her heart lurched seeing the few broken steps and fallen lamps that had hung from above, lying in her way.

“Marcus, God, please answer me!” she shouted needing to hear his voice.

“Abby!”

The sound that spilled from her was half laughter half sob.  _ He’s alive, _ was all she could think, and she started to make her way slowly, carefully downstairs. “Marcus, I’m here! I’m coming.”

In his office, her eyes widened, finding him lying under a wooden beam. She rushed over to him, needed to look into his eyes, to hear his voice, to see that he was okay.

“Marcus, oh, thank God.” Bracing her hand on his desk, she lowered herself to the floor beside him.

He reached out for her, his hands pushing her hair back from her face to look at her. “Abby, are you all right?”

She wanted to laugh. He was the one who was trapped under a beam, not her. She ran her hand across his cheek. “Am I all right? God, Marcus, I’m fine.”

“I can’t get my leg free.” His voice was strained, weak.

Nodding, she moved away from him. The beam had fallen across his lower leg, trapping it beneath its heavy weight. From what she could see, there was a lot of swelling. She looked at the beam which had fallen from the ceiling, snapped in the middle and broke in two places, half of one laying across Marcus’ leg and the other still slightly attached at an angle from the ceiling to the ground in an L shape. The only problem was lifting the thick wood off him.

“I think your leg is broken,” she said, putting her hands under the beam testing its weight. Tears threatened to fill her eyes once again. It was heavy. Too heavy for her. “I don’t think I can get this off of you.”

“Don’t you dare try.” He groaned and let his head fall back onto the floor. Abby moved close, hovered over him and brushed the debris from his hair. “Have you heard from the girls? From Bellamy?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. Needing a few seconds to get her emotions under control. When she was finally able to speak, it came out as a hushed whisper, “They’re all fine. The girls are still up at camp with Lexa. Clarke and Octavia were going to call Bellamy.”

His eyes met hers. “Abby, you have to get out of here. It’s not safe. That was a support beam, if another one hits…”

“I’ll call for help,” she said, interrupting him, “but I’m not leaving you in here alone.”

He shook his head, his voice insistent when he said, “There could be aftershocks. You need to get you and the baby out.”

If he thought she was stubborn before, he hadn’t seen anything yet. With her eyes holding his, her tone just as firm as her stare, she said, “I won’t leave you until I know you’re going to be safe. I won’t lose you, too.”

His eyes softened. “You won’t.”

“Is there anyone else who was here?” she asked.

“No, I just sent Roan home to be with Echo.”

Taking her phone from her pocket, she squinted down at the screen. The signal bars gone, and  _ No Service _  splayed across the top. “I’m not getting any signal down here. I need to go back upstairs so I can call an ambulance.”

His hand fell to her lower back. “Be careful.”

“I will.” She stood and crossing the room, she took a blanket from the back of the couch. She shook out the pieces of ceiling, and got back down beside him. Covered him to keep him as warm as she could until she returned. He smiled up at her even though he was in pain, even though the place was falling down around them, and in that moment,  she never loved him more. Because that smile was meant for her.

Unwilling to leave him ever again without kissing him, she lowered her head, brushed her lips softly against his.

* * *

He watched her go with a growing apprehension that intensified the minute she was out of sight. He hated that she was down there, but equally thankful she had come. As soon as she called for help, he was going to make her wait outside where it was safe. He would be all right down there himself until help arrived.

His body shook, from the cold or the shock or a combination of both.

Closing his eyes, he thought back over the past week. To the times during the evening when he and Abby watched the evening news before bed and listened to the geologists who warned the smaller earthquake could be a precursor of a bigger one to come. While he’d hoped not, the odds had been so low that he’d dismissed the warning almost immediately and gone on with talks about Christmas or their children.

Something like this happening was… should have been unlikely.

He hadn’t realized he started to fall asleep until he heard Abby’s voice. “I got a hold of emergency. They’re sending an ambulance and the fire department.” His eyes opened, and he watched her lower herself back down beside him. “Clarke left me a message, Bellamy and Gina are fine. He’s headed back.”

“Good,” he said, fighting against the weight of his eyelids wanting to close. He was so cold and tired. He just wanted to sleep.

“Marcus,” she said, and he felt her hands on his face. “Marcus open your eyes.”

“Tired,” was all he could manage to whisper.

“I know you are, but you need to stay awake. You need to… Mmm…”

Through the fog of pain and exhaustion, his eyes snapped open hearing her moan. Her eyes and her face were scrunched slightly in what looked like pain. The adrenaline that left him before was back in his veins. “Are you all right?”

She took a deep breath through her nose, then opened her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look…”

“Marcus, I said I’m fine,” she snapped, making him firmly believe that she was not fine. “It’s just a pain. It’s not contractions. Probably from the stress.”

Not wanting to upset her further, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. They stayed like that for a long time. Sitting and waiting, holding hands. The ache in his leg was starting to increase to a dull pulsing pain.

She let out a heavy breath. “What's taking them so long?”

Another boom and then the rumbling of another aftershock followed. “Oh God, not another,” he said, then ignoring the pain that shot through his body like fire, leaned up, and hovered over Abby as everything shook again.  

There came a heavy snap, and the beam across his leg lifted as the other piece came down on the other taking the weight and lifting it like a seesaw. His reaction to his leg being free was instinct to move away, and he cried out as pain radiated up his leg and spine when he shifted.

The shaking stopped, and Abby looked from him to his leg and back. “Are you okay?”

He gritted his teeth but nodded. “I'm fine.”

“Can you move back? Away from it?”

“I think so…” he said, then lifting himself, braced his hands behind him and moved back. Pain like before exploded up his leg, and though he tried like hell to hold it back, he called, out, “Gah, fuck!”

Abby helped him move back until his back was up against his desk. “Stay right there. I can make a splint, then we can get you out of here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said with a shaky breath. He watched Abby as she got to her feet. She left the room but came back not long later with an elastic bandage and two long pieces of wood that, on closer inspection, were from a picture frame. The moment her hands touched his leg, he flinched and immediately regretted the movement. With a moan, he dropped his head back against the desk.

Needing to distract his mind from the pain, he said, “She's going to be just like you, you know. A little hand full. Stubborn.”

She shook her head and looked up at him with a sideways smile. “Oh,  _ I'm _ stubborn.”

He let out a breathy laugh at the arch of her brow. After a moment, he grew somber, thinking about all that happened and their fight, then softly added, “And beautiful and strong. I still pinch myself every day that this isn’t a dream. That you’re really here and you love me…” Her eyes met his when she finished the splint around his leg. “Abby, you were right, I should have talked to you about the house before I bought it. It was misguided of me to think that something so important shouldn’t have been a decision we both should have made.”

She let out a sigh and gave a little shrug. “It wasn’t such a bad Christmas present.”

“I talked to my lawyer and our agent. I can still get out of it. It’ll just cost me the earnest money I put down.”

She gave him a look, but it was followed by another smile. “Do I want to know?”

He laughed. “One percent.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

“But that was also before the quake.”

Her eyes held, what he believed to be, a genuine concern. “Do you think something’s happened to it?”

He shrugged then reached back bracing himself against the desk to pull himself to his feet. “We won’t find out until we go have a look.”

“Kane!”

They both looked to the door at the sound of Roan’s voice. Abby made her way out into the hall. “Roan, we’re back here! Marcus is hurt.”

“The fire department and the paramedics are here. We’re coming!”

Marcus slumped back on the desk, putting all his weight on it. “Thank God.”

She went back over to him, her eyes bright with tears. “We’re going to be okay.”

He reached for her. “Come here.” With her in his arms, they stayed there holding one another until Pike, followed by two firefighters, came in carrying a stretcher.

The darker skinned man looked at him, then at the beam. “I told you you needed to get this place up to earthquake code.”

Marcus let out a soft chuckle. “You’ll have to fine me for it.”

But the other man shook his head. His eyes slid from him to Abby and back. “Nah, I’d say you’ve learned your lesson. Come on, Mrs. Kane, We’ll get him out right after you.”

* * *

She sat in the back of the ambulance next to Marcus and waited quietly as the young EMT took her blood pressure. Marcus’ leg was broken and her pains had lessened somewhat, but were still there. Now that Marcus was safe, and she was able to think clearly, she suspected her pains were nothing more than a few Braxton Hicks.

The EMT finished up and gave her a nod and a smile.

“How is she?” Marcus asked.

“You wife's fine, sir. We'll get you both up to the hospital now.”

Abby looked over at Marcus then, and their gazes met. Twin smiles pulling their lips up by the young man’s assumption. Marcus reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. “Hey, wife.”

“Hey, husband,” she murmured back.

“Still wanna marry me?”

“Are  _ you _ sure?” she asked, teasing him. “I’m a frustrating handful, I hear.”

“I've never been more sure about anything in my life. I love you, Abby. I'm sorry I said what I did and for not talking to you first. We don’t have to buy the house. And you can teach if you want, stay home, whatever you choose I'll be behind you.”

She leaned toward him, and her eyes closed, feeling his lips press against her. When she drew away, she told him, “I'm still marrying you. And don’t back out of the house.”

His eyes searched hers. “You want it?”

“Yes, I really want it. You were right, too. I was a little on the unreasonable side.”

He smiled at her begrudging tone and offered, “Not so much.” She straightened, feeling another small pain and he placed a hand on her back. “Are you still hurting?”

She placed her hand on top of his on her belly. “Not as bad as before.”

“Okay, let’s get you folks to the hospital,” the paramedic said right before closing the doors to the ambulance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that wasn't so bad, right? 
> 
> Hey so question for you all before you go! 
> 
> How are you all still enjoying the story? I ask only because I value all of your comments and feedback, whether they be here or on Twitter, on this story in particular because of the plans I have for it (plans that will be announced soonish... mwhaha) and I wanted to be sure and hear your thoughts on how your liking it still. If you think the story is the story moving too slow, if you're bored, you think there's too much fluff, not enough angst, whatever. Good or bad if it's just not capturing your attention anymore or if you think it's fine and I'm worrying too much, please let me know real quick down below before you go. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for following along and -lets out big breath- more to come soon.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a warning now. I'm SO sorry.

The week that followed the earthquake, time seemed to slow down for them all. Marcus had broken his fibula and would have to be in a cast and use crutches for several weeks before he would be able to walk. And even then, only with the aid of a walking boot, for several more. He spent most of the week on her couch with his foot propped up on pillows and grumbling about needing to do things and be useful. However, Indra was in town and being useful enough for them both. Instead of doing things on his feet, Abby had given him a legal pad, a pen, her laptop, and his phone. And with a kiss, reminded him that she would need him to be useful after their child was born. He could make calls and fill out insurance claims online. Guilt, turned out, to be a wonderful thing.

The bar and apartment had been deemed by the fire department a yellow hazard with limited entry. They were restricted from being inside after dark and unable to remove anything that was too big. Furniture would have to be left behind but clothes, small things they had that they could pack up and be out with quick was okay.  

With Marcus’ leg and her condition, it was left to Bellamy and some of the men from the bar who risked going in. Octavia had been permitted to go up a few times with Lincoln for her things, while Clarke and Lexa went in for Abby and some of the baby’s things.

The depth of the quake had been what saved them all. Had it been  shallower, there would have been significant damage, but according to reports, it was more than forty miles below the surface. Her house had withstood the quake, albeit a few cracks in the garage. And their new home had been updated long ago to withstand earthquakes.

With a little over a week before they could start to move into the new house, Abby tried to keep  everyone's spirits, including her own, up. Because of the earthquake, the holiday for them was skipped over, so they decided to celebrate Christmas and New Year’s Eve together since they were able to collect the gifts they had bought one another from the apartment.

She had just started making dinner for them when her phone rang. Not recognizing the number, she was tempted to let the call go to her voicemail but decided better of doing so. Marcus had given the insurance companies, his lawyer, and a handful of other people her number in case they couldn’t reach him (in case his painkillers had knocked him out.)

Accepting the call, she tilted her head to the side and held the phone with her shoulder while she finished chopping the handful of carrots she had left. “Hello?”

The line stayed silent, and for a second, Abby thought the caller had hung up. But then there was a sniff and then a tentative voice asked, “Hello, is this Professor Griffin?”

Abby put the knife down and took her phone in her hand. The voice was soft, and so she had to strain to hear the caller. “Yes, this is Abigail Griffin.”

“Oh, good. I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from my daughter’s phone…” The woman broke off. To Abby, it sounded like the woman was laughing? Soon, her voice was back. “This is… Lori McIntyre, Harper’s mother.”

“Oh.” Abby heard another sound, an almost choked back sob and it was then she realized Harper’s mother wasn’t laughing, she was crying. Dread filled her chest as she asked, “Is… is Harper okay?”

Another sob, and then her voice was back and stronger than it had been before. “That’s what I had called to tell you. She was… Harper was killed in the earthquake,” she said. Abby covered her mouth, tears immediately filled and spilled down her cheeks.  _ No, not Harper _ , her mind kept saying but her mother’s voice continued on, “She was driving home with some friends  on the freeway when it collapsed. You’ve always been her favorite, you see. She talked about you all the time. Compared all her other teachers to you. It wouldn’t be a normal day if she didn’t come home from school without mentioning your name. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t there. The service for her is Sunday.”

She didn’t know what to say. As a mother, someone who loved Harper, she wanted to tell her so many things. To cry with her. But she was a stranger to her mother. Swallowing, Abby said the only thing she could. “I’ll be there. I am so so sorry. Harper was…” It was her turn for her voice to break. “Harper was an amazing girl. She would have been an amazing doctor.”

“Thank you. I’ll have my son call you with the details of her service later in the week.”

She opened her mouth to say,  _ please do _ when the call ended.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, she felt numb and yet her heart clenched in her chest. She whispered Harper’s name, and as it passed through her lips she let the grief go with it. Closing her eyes, she pictured the girl’s smile, her love for learning, her enthusiasm in everything she did. The way she loved, God, she loved her, and Abby loved her so much.

Her gaze lifted as if Harper were up there somewhere looking down if she could see her and Abby thought if there was a way to send all her love to someone gone like she had so many times with Jake, she would. But unlike Jake, Harper was so young. She hadn’t lived her life. Hadn’t been able to grow up and get married, lived to have children or see them grow. Suddenly, Abby was angry.  

Her death wasn’t fair. She should have lived. She should have lived to be a doctor, a wife, a mother, a grandmother. Looking around her, Abby needed to get away.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped away the wetness from her cheeks and made her way into the living room.

Marcus was the first to look over at her and his eyes widened. She watched him sit up, alarmed by her tears, the look on her face… she didn’t know. “Abby?”

“I… I just…” she said, trying but failing not to cry. Octavia sat up from where she lied next to Clarke on the floor while Clarke shut off the movie they were watching. “That was Harper’s mother… she was out with some friends... they were on the freeway when the earthquake hit,” she paused. Everyone in the room’s eyes were on her, knowing, waiting. “She didn’t make it.”

Octavia’s hand flew to cover her mouth, and Clarke got to her feet. “Oh, Mom.”

Abby let herself be pulled into her daughter’s embrace but then pulled back. “I’m going to go upstairs. I just need a few minutes.”’

She left before Marcus could manage to get his crutches and get to his feet. If he touched her, if he pulled her into his arms, she would lose it and she didn’t want to do that in the room with Octavia and Clarke.

Alone in her room, she shut the door and laid down on her bed. She took Marcus’ pillow and let the tears come. Not silent tears but heaving sobs that left her muffling the sound of her grief into the pillow.

She wasn’t sure when or how Marcus managed to get upstairs but she felt the pillow being taken and then his arms and chest replacing it. He said nothing, just held her and ran his hand through her hair as she continued to cry.

Sometime much later, she opened her eyes to see the room had darkened. She must have fallen asleep. But Marcus hadn’t, or he woke up sometime before her because his hand was a steady caress down her back. She took a deep breath, clutched at his shirt smelling the scent of him. Of soap, of laundry detergent, and the hint of sweat.

“She wanted to be a doctor so badly,” she whispered into his chest right before another sob escaped her. “It’s not fair, Marcus.”

She felt the press of his lips against the top of her head, and then his arms as they tightened around her. “I know.”

* * *

When Abby had fallen asleep for the second time that night, Marcus had gone to sleep with her. He had woken around five the next morning to find her still sound asleep. But his leg had been aching like a beast. So bad, he had gotten up and hobbled his way downstairs to his painkillers.

In the kitchen, he had found a note on the counter. Clarke had finished the soup Abby had started that night and found himself starving.

He had eaten and watched the sunrise out the back door thinking about how fragile and unpromised life could be. He counted his lucky stars when he and his family had escaped unharmed, for the most part. But they hadn’t. Harper had been a part of their little family. And her loss was felt deep in them all.

Indra had come by later that morning, pulling him from his contemplative thoughts with the reports brought from the fire department and construction assessment. Repairs to the building would cost about as much to tear the building down and start from scratch. Thank God, Indra had talked him into buying that  extra insurance.

From a business standpoint, the decision wasn’t a hard one to make. But from a man who had spent the last twenty-one years living and raising his children there, it was a heart-wrenching experience. They would rebuild. With strict up-to-date earthquake codes and reinforcement, and it would take time, but it would be worth it.

Indra left him with a set of old designs, their decision made. About to take a drink of his cold coffee, he looked up at the sound of Abby’s voice.

“What are we looking at?”

“The old plans to the pub. Indra and I went over them and these things here in red are the changes we thought we’d make. She’s going to drop them off to an architect on her way back to Portland tomorrow.”

He took her hand and pulled her down into his lap, onto his good leg.

She gazed over them and he rubbed her back, in what he hoped was soothing for her. “A new place from the ground up, huh?”

“Yep, and luckily, the insurance will cover all of it.” She turned to him and he added, “And all of the downtime between. At least I can give some of the crew some money and keep up their insurance until we're back up and running.”

“How long will it take?”

“At least six months.” Lifting his gaze from the plans, he looked up into her eyes. Her hair was tucked back behind her ears so he could see her face. She still looked tired. “How are you?”

“I’m all right.” Her forehead dropped softly against his and he closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her holding her close. “They’re having a memorial for Harper on Sunday. I was hoping you’d go with me?”

“Of course, I will,” he told her, his voice growing tight thinking once again of the young girl with the bright smile and sweetness that was taken from the world too soon. “What can I do for you?”

“Just what you’re doing now. Just be here to hold me.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. An easy task to do. “Do you want me to tell the kids we’ll open gifts tomorrow night?”

She shook her head. “No, they’ve waited more than a week. I’m okay, it’s just…” she started, but paused to clear her throat before continuing, “For four years I had her every semester. Watched her go from being a terrified young girl and new student to a confident, astute young woman.” Her voice shuddered out of her, and those warm eyes he loved so much filled with tears. “I love all of my kids, but I got so attached to her and…  I’m going to miss her, Marcus.”

He nodded, feeling his own eyes burn from his own unfallen tears. “It’s okay to miss her. She’ll always be a part of you.”

Her breath hitched, and unable to not hold her in his arms any longer, he pulled her to him. They cried together and held onto each other until laughter and the sounds of their kids arriving home from getting breakfast pulled them apart.

Abby went back upstairs to change and he watched her go, thinking about how Harper’s death would be with Abby for a long time and how he would make sure he was there as much as he could be to help her through it.

* * *

Later that night, all together on the cold January night, they sat in different locations in Abby's living room exchanging Christmas gifts that had gone unwrapped for far too long. She had needed most of the day before she could bring herself to want to open gifts, and the kids had been fine with waiting until later. Octavia even offering to wait until after Sunday before they unwrapped their gifts.

But she woke that morning feeling a bit better, the ache of Harper’s death that drug her down felt a little less heavy. And so, she got herself up, had breakfast with her family. Harper wasn’t the kind of girl who would want Abby to be sad for too long, and she owed her that.

“Mom,” Clarke called across the room while lifting a present wrapped in red and silver wrapping paper, “This is from Octavia, Bellamy and I.”

Abby’s eyes widened. They had already given her more presents than they should have.

“It’s kinda for the baby too but more for you,” Octavia added with a grin.

“You guys, you’ve given me too many things already,” she began then paused. Reaching inside the package she pulled out a black purse but then realized what it was and decided one more present wouldn’t hurt. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Marcus asked beside her. “A purse?”

Octavia shook her head. “It’s a Kate Spade diaper bag.”

Abby turned it this way and that. Inspecting the smooth material outside and in, discovering more pockets than she’d know what to do with. “I love it. I just might use this as a real purse.”

“We thought you’d like it.”

“It’s gorgeous, thank you all.”

“Dad, this one's for you, from Abby.”

He smiled over at her and she grinned back, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t disappoint. With bright eyes, he chuckled up at her. “Oh, woolen socks. Just what I wanted.”

“Too bad you can only use one,” she told him.

He leaned up to kiss her, and because he was half leaning on her half lying on the couch, she bent her head to meet him halfway. “Less laundry,” he mumbled against her lips.

When he pulled away, she said, “It’s not as big as your gift.”

He hadn’t cared though, only shook his head and told her, “Two season tickets to the Canucks were more than enough.”

“I thought if I got two passes then Octavia or Bellamy could go with you, or we get a good babysitter and you and I can visit Vancouver and go watch your game.”

“It’s better than a house.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “Sure.”

“Aww, Abby I love the leggings!”

Abby smiled over at Olivia who stood and held them up to herself. “I hoped you would.”

“Hell yeah, who doesn’t love an evil queen?” she replied and then looked over at Clarke still over by the tree talking with Bellamy about the drone Marcus got for him. “Is that it?”

“There might be one more for your mother if you look in the very back.”

“What?” She turned to him. “No, Marcus. I have enough already.”

“Just one,” he said, “And it’s nothing too extravagant. Just something you like that you can use. Even tonight if you want.”

Abby smiled opening it. His gift was a bath set with her favorites from The Queen’s Honey Collection, with honey butter, scrub, and soap. “Thank you.”

She kissed him again and he hummed softly against her lips.

“Ugh, can’t you guys do that in your own room?” Octavia asked making a face at them.

She lifted a brow, and he smiled. 

“In fact, we can,” Marcus said and with that, he hopped up, onto his good foot and reached for his crutch and then her hand. “Don’t stay up too late you guys. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Say’s the cripple. What are you going to do? Sit in a chair and point?”

Abby tried not to laugh at the look on Marcus’ face at Octavia’s comment. The raised indigent brows, mouth falling open slightly. They’d been given the okay that afternoon that they could start moving into the new house earlier than they expected. Marcus had scrambled and hired a set of movers along with some of his crew to help them since she and Marcus were unable to do anything that involved lifting.

With a serious expression, he told their teen, “Delegating is a difficult job, Octavia. Someone needs to see that it’s done properly.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Upstairs, Marcus had talked her into taking a bath, and it was exactly what the doctor ordered. She soaked and listened to the sound of his voice while he chatted with his mother on the phone until the tension left her shoulders, until her back muscles relaxed, and she felt drowsy. She rubbed her body butter all over her, loving the smell and the way it left her skin feeling smooth. Rubbed it over her belly laughing when her stomach shook from her daughter’s hiccups.

When she got into bed, she did so with a drawn out sigh. “I’m so tired.”

“How’s your back?”

She smiled into her pillow feeling his hand start to make slow circles around her hips and tailbone. She leaned back into his touch and mumbled, “Better now.”

“We’re almost settled, Abby. The house just needs a few things to be done cosmetically but the construction team said it held up well.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I talked to Indra tonight, she’s going to come up and meet the insurance agents with me so we can start getting everything rebuilt…” his voice trailed off and she tried oh so hard to keep her eyes open but they slipped shut again. The last thing she heard was him softly say, “Goodnight,” then felt his kiss as he pressed it to the back of her head.

* * *

The following evening, Marcus leaned against the door frame of his daughter’s room looking in. “Are you sure you don’t want the walls pink?”

Abby turned towards him. She was alone in the baby’s room which was filled with boxes, standing in front of the crib he put together earlier that afternoon. His heart grew ten times in size at the picture of her in front of it.

She smiled softly. “No, I like the green. You should be taking it easy on that leg.”

He gave a shrug or as much of a shrug as he could with crutches under his armpits. “I’ve been sitting all day. I needed to get up and do something.” Coming to a stop behind her, he dropped his chin to her shoulder and glancing into the crib with the newly washed blankets and stuffed animals. “A little over six weeks and she’ll be here.”

“I know. It’s so close but still feels so far away.”

“I for one, can’t wait.”

“I think I want to get a smaller crib for her to put in our room.” He moved his chin and straightened as she turned to him. “Normally I wouldn’t, but I want to have her close for a while.”

He hadn’t thought about the idea of the baby sleeping far away from them even after literally just building and putting her bed in the room down the hall from them, and now that she brought it up, he agreed. “We can do that. It’s going to take some time before we start to feel safe again. I’m going to have someone come out and check the place again, not a contractor this time but a retrofit company. If they can make it safer then I’ll have them do what they can to make it as earthquake-proof as possible.”

The side of her mouth pulled up. “And here I thought all we would have to worry about was baby proofing the house.”

“You worry about the baby proofing and I’ll worry about the earthquake.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

There was something in her eyes, an expression on her face like there was something she wanted to talk about. “What is it?”

Her gaze fell between them and his followed, watching her hand caress over her stomach. “Marcus, I know we have a name picked out but,” she started, and he could say he was surprised but not at the words that left her, “I want to name her Harper.”

When he thought about the name they had, it was a good name but a name that he couldn’t say felt right, and it’d been that way for Abby too. He knew because she still picked up the baby name book beside their bed and flipped through it occasionally, and she would still hear a name and get that look on her face, the look that considered it over the name they picked.

Harper gave him the feeling that had been missing when he picked out Octavia.

He smiled, brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “I think that’s a perfect name for her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention I was sorry?


	21. Chapter 21

Abby woke to the feel of kisses being dropped softly on her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, and the tip of her nose. Admittedly, she’d been awake for a while. Her back had been aching all night and into the morning, so much so that she only really dozed on and off every now and then. But for the moment, she was comfortable with Marcus spooned behind her, content feeling his hand as it rested on her belly enjoying the kicks of their daughter’s foot against his hand. 

“You should go back to sleep.”

A light laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Says the man trying to kiss me awake.”

She blinked her eyes open to see him smiling down at her. “I just wanted you awake long enough so I could tell you I’m going to get up so I can get going.”

She hummed and raised a hand, threading her fingers into his soft, dark hair and sighed when his lips met hers.

“I won’t be long,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to the side of her mouth then her cheek, making her eyes close once again.

Leaving these days, even weeks later after the earthquake, were still a bit nerve-wracking for them all. From Octavia going out with Clarke or Lincoln, Bellamy moving back into the dorms, to even mundane trips to the grocery store. Quick little texts of reassurance were exchanged often to ease everyone's mind. The messages dwindled as more and more time passed and nothing happened. It was only the longer trips away that had her checking her phone a little more frequently.

She rolled back against him and looked up into his eyes. “I know.”

“If you or Octavia need anything-”

“Marcus,” she interrupted, moving her hand from his hair to cup his cheek, “we’ll be fine.”

He dropped his head down to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. “It’s hard to leave when it’s nice and warm right here.”

She knew the feeling. All the moving and unpacking and merging of their things were finally done. They were at a point where they could all relax. She was officially on maternity leave for the next six months. There was absolutely nothing to do but be patient and wait for their daughter to arrive. 

But there was also something about the day that made her want to shut the world out and stay in bed with Marcus. It was a wonderful thought, however, he was meeting with Indra and their new architect, so she was going to have to share him, at least for the day. 

She hummed again at the feel of his lips on her neck. “Go, or you’ll never leave this bed.”

He must have thought along the same lines because he let out a groan of protest then gave her one last kiss. She dozed some more to the sound of him moving around the room getting ready, but once he was gone, she found she couldn’t lie in bed anymore. 

She wanted to clean.

Everything.

With the musical stylings of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac playing from her old iPod, Abby dressed, pulled her hair up into a ponytail and got to work.

But three weeks in their new home the place was still spotless. And yet, she still found things to clean. She washed hers and Marcus’ bedding, and Harper’s, even though it was unused and washed once before. She vacuumed all the upstairs rugs and when Octavia woke up, had the young girl help her wipe down all the window blinds. When they finished with the windows, she got out all the pacifiers, the bottles, and breast pump parts, washed and soaked them in hot water and soap. Sterilizing everything even though her due date was still three weeks away.

When she ran out of things to clean, she decided it was time to get organized. She made a list of groceries for Marcus and Octavia to run out and get stocked up on, went upstairs and opened a pack of diapers, putting them in a small organizer crate Clarke had given to her at her shower a few weeks back, along with powder and wipes and diaper rash cream. Anything she may need within arm’s reach.

She knew she was nesting, and in a way, it was reassuring more than worrying.

She unpacked and repacked her hospital bag and diaper bag and when she was finally satisfied she had everything she needed, she called it a day and went downstairs to have lunch with Octavia. They made sandwiches with cucumber, tomato, avocado, and hummus and had apple slices with peanut butter. She had worked up an appetite for sure, and Octavia promised to clean up while she went upstairs for a well-deserved shower.

With the heat cranked up, she stood under the spray for a good ten minutes, letting the water soothe her aching back that had been hurting with increased severity as the day went on. 

Scrubbed, washed, and rinsed, she stepped out of the shower, about to reach for her towel when she felt something. A warm gush of fluid between her legs that wasn’t from her bladder that her daughter had come to use as a squeak toy. The stunning realization of what it was hit her, leaving her standing still in the middle of her bathroom.

Her water broke.

“Oh, God,” she whispered and stepped back into the shower. She turned on the spray and stood under it while her heartbeat thumped hard in her chest. The pains in her back and accompanying tightening pains she dismissed as more Braxton Hicks she experienced the night before and all through the morning, had been more than just backaches, they had been labor. Her baby girl was on her way. 

Abby forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out slow. There was nothing to panic about. She was a little over thirty-seven weeks, the baby would be small but she would be fine. Thirty-seven weeks was considered full term. She would text Diana and…

Abby groaned and rubbed her hands over her belly. Diana had a conference in Denver this weekend. “Oh, Harper honey, you’re early. Your aunt Diana isn’t going to be happy with us.”

She stood in the shower another fifteen minutes for the fluid to slow enough for her to get out of the shower so she could change.

“Octavia, can you come here, please?” She wrapped her robe around her and opened her bedroom door seeing their teenager coming down the hall.

“What’s up?”

A sharper pain than before made its way around her back and around her middle. She pressed her lips together to keep from gasping. Once the worst of it went by, she let out a breath. “My cell phone is downstairs in the kitchen; can you go grab it for me please?”

Octavia eyed her with a frown. “Sure.”

The teen disappeared down the stairs and while she was gone, Abby paced her room. She shook her head and laughed lightly at herself. At the absurdity of how she was a doctor and she hadn’t known what had been happening to her body. Her back pains had been a regular thing. Small annoying twinges which crept around tightening her belly that only bothered her every so often and only started to increase in regularity that afternoon while she was cleaning.

She should have known or at the very least suspected, but she blamed those stronger pains on the activity, on the constant moving around, and not labor.

That final thought stopped her in her tracks. Had she brought on her early labor? By doing too much? Should she have listened to Marcus and taken it easier? Running a hand over her stomach, she swallowed and fought hard to swallow down the guilt that made her way up from her chest threatening to close her throat.

Octavia returned with her phone. “Here you go, Abby.”

“Thank you.” She settled her gaze on Octavia, studying the teen. “How do you feel about driving us to the hospital?”

Octavia’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, are you labor?”

“I am.” Marcus had taken her car because it was an automatic and the only way he could get around until his leg healed. She could drive his, but at the moment, she didn’t trust herself shifting, especially if her pains got worse between here and the hospital. Octavia, on the other hand, drove her father’s car better than she drove Abby’s. With a tilt of her chin, she said, “Go get dressed and we’ll go after I call your father. You’re all right with driving?”

Octavia came to a stop just outside the bedroom door and turned back with a smirk. “Damn right, I am.”

Abby had to chuckle at the smirk on the young girls face. Bringing up her messages, Abby found the string of her and Diana’s messages and typed, _ It’s time _ . 

Next, she went to her contacts, tapped Marcus’s name, and waited while the call connected.

* * *

Extending his hand, Marcus shook the hand of his new architect. Completely overqualified and about his age, he was new in town, just moved there with his family and came highly recommended as the architectural blessing to Seattle.

“Thank you for your time. It was good meeting you, Mr. Locksley,” Marcus said, trying to balance on one crutch and his good foot.

The sandy blonde-haired man, smirked. Gripped his hand tightly while Marcus got hold of the other crutch. “You’re welcome, and Robin, please, I insist. And go easy on that leg. I broke mine trying to run a 5k back in New York a few years ago. My wife gave me no end of grief for all the walking I did on it after, but with two teenagers and two little ones it’s hard to stay put.”

“I know what you mean. My fiancé and I have three grown children of our own and a baby on the way and then all of this happened. I doubt there will be much slowing down any time soon.”

“He’s lucky he’s marrying a doctor,” said Indra with a poorly contained smirk.

Robin smiled. “Ah, so you’re good then. All right, I’ll have these new plans for you both in a couple of weeks.”

“Looking forward to it.” Marcus waved to Robin who hopped into the Jeep with New York plates and drove away. One less thing to worry about now. Or one less thing out of his hands and into someone who will do better things with it. Turing to Indra, he asked, “Why don’t you join us all at the house for lunch before you head home?”

His business partner tried but failed to hide a rare smile. “I would, but I have a date tonight.”

Marcus’ eyes widened. “A date? You don’t think David will mind?”

Indra rolled her eyes at his jest. “He is my date.”

“Lucky him,” he said with a chuckle and pulled her into an embrace before she could get away from him, “give him and Gaia my love.”

“I will and give mine to your crew.”

Left alone on the street of Seattle, he watched her drive away then looked up at the building in front of him. Across the street a crane hoisted up a large sign, securing it to the Bank of America building which had fallen in the quake. While most of the damage had been to the smaller, older establishments like his, who weren’t as up-to-date on the lasted earthquake outfits, even the larger structures who were sustained some damage.

The smell of food in the air had his attention turning to the sub shop down the street. He thought about Abby and Octavia at home and pulled his phone from the back of his jeans pocket and noticed he just missed a call from Abby.

He pressed the call back and brought the phone to his ear. When she answered, he said, “Hey, babe, we’re just finishing up here. I was just going to call and see if you wanted me to bring you lunch and saw your call.”

“No, we had lunch a little while ago.” Her voice sounded distracted, making his brow furrow until she added, “But I would like you to meet us at the hospital as soon as you can.”

“What?” Had they missed an appointment? He was sure their appointment with Diana wasn’t until next week. He tilted his head and held his phone with his shoulder so he could make his way to the car. “Why?”

“My water broke.”

Had he been mid-step, Marcus probably would have fallen over. But luckily, he had put both sets of crutches on the ground and planted his good foot. All the air in his lungs left him. Her water broke? But it was… her due date wasn’t for… Bracing his weight on one side, he took the phone back in his hand. “But… we’ve got three more weeks.”

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to care about dates.”

The seriousness in her voice got him moving again. With the phone back between his head and shoulder, he quickened his pace while berating himself. He just had to park in the Goddamn garage instead of on the street like the others had. “I’m on my way,” he said then paused. If he was driving her car she only had his. “Wait, who’s driving you?”

“Octavia is driving,” she told him, her voice sounding amused.

Just having made it to the car, he got in and tried to ignore the pain in his foot as he bumped it against the bottom of the door. “Tell her to go slow and safe.”

“She’s going to do fine. The contractions are still far apart we have time.” With emphasis in her tone, she said, “ _ You _ drive slow.”

He snorted. “Not hardly.”

“Well just-” her voice broke off and she hissed.

His stomach tightened into a knot, waiting, listening. “Abby?”

“Mmmhmm, I’m fine. Just had to breathe through that one. They’re starting to get stronger now.”

He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair while he waited for someone to back up. “Isn’t this too soon?”

“It’s early, but not too early. She’ll be fine.”

While he trusted Abby’s word as a doctor, she could have put Diana on the phone telling him the same thing and even her assurances still wouldn’t loosen the fist that kept a tight hold on his heart. Leaving the garage, he stopped waiting for traffic then pulled out onto the street once it was clear.

“I thought I had another week or two at least before I started to get nervous,” he told her, more to keep his  mind busy than anything because he already had. He was sure his constant bugging of her to rest more and take it easy as they had been moving had been bordering on annoying her. But she had been doing a lot, to the point even if she hadn’t been pregnant he would have told her to relax. “I didn’t get to follow you around everywhere and watch you like you might go into labor at any moment.”

She hummed and surprised him with a, “Next one.”

He laughed and shook his head because damn he loved her with everything he was. “I knew I’d wear you down.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice a breathy thing that made him hold his own in his chest, “I’ve got her bag and mine. We’re on our way.”

Glancing over his shoulder at the traffic beside him and finding it clear, he changed lanes and took the next right heading for Virginia Mason Hospital. “I’ll be right there. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She ended the call and he dropped his phone in the seat beside him. And suddenly his breath at once left him with the stunning realization that his daughter, his baby girl he’d been waiting all these months to meet, would be born today.

* * *

Throughout the car ride she had been able to keep from groaning with every tightening of her belly, bit back every sign of discomfort so well that Octavia asked her if she felt anything yet.

Abby had been tempted to tell the teen how much it did hurt and how excruciating it would get in the coming hours to dissuade Octavia from ever engaging in any activities that would put her in Abby’s position. But decided against it as they still had another few miles to go, and being just like her father, if Octavia thought she was in a lot of pain, she would punch down on the gas to get them there faster.

At the hospital, Octavia insisted on carrying her bag and the baby’s bag, which weren’t heavy at all, but the teen insisted Abby did enough carrying things around for one day.

Stepping inside the door, Abby heard Marcus’ voice call her name. She turned and found him behind her, enveloping her in his arms. “Hey,” he breathed, his voice soothing some of the anxiety she’d been feeling not having him with her.

“I told you we’d make it fine,” she said, trying to sound as assuring for him as she could, “I need to get checked in.”

“I’m gonna wait out here,” Octavia said, glancing at Abby then her stomach and back. “Someone should wait for Bell and Clarke for when they come.”

Abby shared a look with Marcus. She couldn't say she blamed Octavia for not wanting to go back with them. When she was a teen, she wouldn’t have wanted to see any of her siblings being born either.

Marcus asked, “You sure?”

Octavia made a sort of scoff and waved her hand in the general vicinity of Abby’s lower region. “Yeah, I don’t want to see any of that. I may want a kid one day.”

“If you want, you can go home and I’ll call you with updates,” Marcus told her pulling her into a side hug.

“No, I’ll wait. I’ve got a book and my charger. I’m good.” Octavia went over to her and leaned down, speaking to her belly, “Take it easy on our mom, kiddo.”

_ Our mom. _

Abby’s chest filled with a searing warmth at her words. Octavia straightened, her look unsure and Abby would have none of that. With tears gathering in her eyes, before Octavia could move away, Abby took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

* * *

Marcus cringed as Abby’s moan filled the room. He stood behind where she was bent over the bed in her room, rubbing her lower back in an attempt to ease some of the discomfort she was feeling. “God, I'm too old for this. What was I thinking?”

“How much you were going to love her-” he started to say but she stood and her glare stopped him cold.

“Not about the  _ baby _ , Marcus. I’m not blaming her.” She moved away from him, took up the pacing she had been doing earlier, and pointed a finger at him. “I’m talking about having sex with you  _ without  _ protection. I’m a doctor for God’s sake, and you, you should have had some better sense.”

He opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it.

But she wasn’t going to end it. “What? Spit it out.”

He tried not to smile but failed miserably. “I recall that night with great detail and if you remember, I did try to pull out but you...” he trailed off when her eyes narrowed with each word.

“But I  _ what _ ?”

He reached up and ran a hand over his mouth. “You didn’t seem very eager for me to go far.”

There was a weighted pause. The truth of that night laid before them. He had some sense and had been ready to but the tightening of her legs around him, her voice in his ear, and the feel of her around him had his better judgement flying right out the window.

“So this is all my fault is what you’re saying?”

She turned away from him, bracing her forehead and arms against the wall, and he went over to her. His hands moved to her low back and began to massage the way he had before. He wasn’t sure if it was helping but she didn’t push him away. 

“Hey, I’m here. Breathe, Abby. Just breathe.”

After the pain passed, she let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry.”

He leaned forward and placed a kiss to the back of her head. “As I recall, it took two of us to get us here.”

“I know, and you are right. I wanted you close and I’m not sorry for it.” She paused, and then her next words broke his heart as they came out with a sob, “This just isn’t going how I hoped. Diana’s not here and probably not going to make it. Her replacement hasn’t shown up. I don’t feel in control of anything.”

He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. Taking her face between his palms, he brushed away the pieces of hair that had fallen from her braid into her face, and said, “Abby, you’re in control of this. You call the shots. Whatever you want just tell me. I can call Diana. I can go right now and find out where the hell this other doctor is. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. ”

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling before closing, and he caught the tears that fell with his thumbs. “There’s nothing you can do except what you’re doing. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” He was about to kiss her but as soon as the words left his mouth, her lips clamped together and her head fell to his chest.Wrapping his arms around her, he murmured, “You can do this.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said through a deep breath, “our daughter isn't splitting you in two.” She hummed a hum that turned into a whimper and gripped his biceps. “God, this is going so fast.”

A voice entering the room had him looking around, but Abby hadn’t moved.

“Hello, Doctor Griffin, Mr. Kane, I'm Dr. Dyozia McCreary,” she said. Marcus was immediately struck that the doctor herself was also pregnant. Her blue eyes held his as she told him. “I'll be filling in until Doctor Sydney can get here.”

Abby’s contraction must have passed, she straightened as she said, “Fabulous. Now can you order me a damn epidural, please?”

“How about we check you first?” the young doctor asked with a tight smile.

Abby clicked her tongue, he could see she was annoyed and holding back a retort but did as she was told. Her desire for pain killers must have been strong enough to keep her from arguing. Marcus stood beside her and helped her into bed. She laid back and he put his hand on her head his thumb stroking over her brow while they waited.

“Not gonna have time for an epidural. She’s just about ready.”

Abby’s eyes flew open. “What? No.”

“Already?” he asked, straightening up, just as astonished. They couldn’t have been at the hospital for more than three hours now. “We just got here.”

The doctor removed the gloves she had put on to check Abby, giving her an appraising stare. “How long have you been in labor, Doctor Griffin?”

Abby was quiet for a moment. “Since late last night.”

Marcus did a double-take. She’s what? All night? Even that morning? She hadn’t said a thing to him. Well, she had. He knew that her back had been hurting but he assumed that was from everything she’d been doing. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until my water broke,” she said, her tone conveying her own frustration.

“My guess she’ll be here in the next hour or two.”

“Oh God, Marcus.” Abby groaned and reached out her hand taking his. The pain in her expression banished away all the questions he had. The only thing that mattered now was this. “You're getting your wish for no needles.”

He would have laughed if she hadn’t been in the middle of giving birth to his daughter. If the needle would lessen the pain he'd gladly watch them give it to her and he told her as much before asking, “What can I do?”

“Just hold my hand.” She swore and gripped his hand with a strength he didn’t know she had in her.

When he imagined the birth of their daughter he had expected something much longer. Something she’d wake him in the middle of the night for, and spend long hours talking and walking while her labor progressed.

He never thought it would happen like this.

* * *

She was so goddamn tired, and it was her own fault. She should have asked to be checked sooner. Should have thought about if she waited too long she wouldn’t be able to have an epidural. But she’d been too focused on the pain, and Diana not being there and the baby being early, that she didn’t take a moment to worry about herself.

Now she wished she had.

She let out another groan and clenched down on Marcus’ hand. “Talk to me about something,” she told him in a desperate attempt to think about anything other than the pain.

“Okay,” he said, “Indra had a date tonight.”

She blinked up at him, hummed through the worst of her contraction as it crest and then once it began to ebb asked, “What?”

He chuckled. “With her husband.”

She swallowed. “Ugh, that’s not remotely interesting.” He laughed again and it made her want to punch him. How dare he be amused when she was, God not another one… “Marcus, talk to me about something I’ll care about.”

“When we met I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” Her eyes met his, and the sincerity and yes, a bit of guilt filled them, probably much like her own. 

Her contraction passed after a minute, and she replied, “I have a confession.”

His lips twitched up. “What’s that?”

She swallowed her emotions on high already, she wasn’t surprised when her eyes began to fill with tears. “You weren’t the only one who had feelings for the other. I felt them too.”

The hand that wasn’t holding hers raised up to her head. His thumb brushed across her forehead. “I don’t think anyone besides us knew.”

There were nurses in the room and she knew, though they may look busy getting ready for the baby to come, they were listening to every word being said.

“Diana did,” she pointed out right before another pain started. “That’s why I stayed away. I loved Jake, I still love him but,” she paused, the pain had passed and reaching up, she cupped his cheek. “I love you so much.”

He took her hand and kissed her palm. “I love you too. Saying what those feelings were out loud doesn't change the love we both had for him. Saying them to one another doesn’t change that, when it mattered we did the right thing. We kept them close to our hearts until we were free to show them.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she started but broke off when pain gripped her, making her eyes close and press her lips together to keep from screaming.

“What wasn’t?” he asked. 

When she felt like she could speak without whimpering, she told him, “Being in love with two men.”

“It wasn’t easy for me either,” he whispered, “but look where we are. I’m not saying this was all meant to be because that doesn’t sound right, but maybe you were meant to have two great loves? I know Jake was blessed to have you, and I... Abby, in so many ways, you saved me. Not only me but Octavia too. You were the piece missing in our lives. I can’t imagine Jake ever objecting to the way things turned out for us.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way because I love everything you just said, but you better kiss me before this next one hits.”

He pressed his lips to hers, her hand tightened on his and she moaned, only letting it out when his lips fell away and his forehead fell against hers. 

Sometime in the next few minutes of her riding out her contractions with Marcus close, she heard the doctor come back into the room.

“How is everyone?” the blonde asked.

Had she not been in the middle of another contraction she would have said  _ Wonderful,  _ but she was so it was Marcus who answered for her.

“Her contractions are almost right on top of each other now.”

“So I hear.”

Abby let her head fall back on the pillow.

“All right, show time,” the doctor said. Abby rolled her eyes. “Anytime you feel like pushing doc, go for it.”

_ Go for it?  _ God, she was going to push her daughter out just to get that damn doctor out of her room. 

Marcus helped her sit up on the next contraction and with his encouragements in her ear she began to push her daughter into the world.

After almost twenty minutes, that felt like a lifetime, Doctor McCreary said, “I can see her head. She's got a full head of hair. One more push, Doc and she'll be here.”

_ Doc _ .

Abby didn’t know why but she hated being called  _ Doc _ . She wasn’t in a cartoon… and  _ugh_. She collapsed back, her breaths coming out in heaving gasps.

“One more push, Doc.”

Abby narrowed her eyes at the doctor, but Marcus’ voice in her ear took her attention away from her to him. “Come on, Abby, you can do this. She's almost here.”

She nodded, gripped down on his hand, and bore down with all she had left. She fell back again but this time felt nothing but relief. The sound of her breathing and then a sharp cry punctuated through the room. Tears welled in her eyes hearing her daughter's cries, feeling Marcus’ lips on her temple, and his murmuring how proud he was of her and how much he loved her.

“How is she?” she asked.

“She’s just fine.” The young doctor looked over at Marcus and held out the baby who she wrapped loosely in a blanket. “Do you want to give her to Mom, Dad?”

“Yes, thank you.” Marcus’s eyes were bright with tears as he took their daughter, and it filled Abby with all the love she never thought she’d experience again. He cradled her close, stealing a moment she didn’t mind a bit watching.“There’s my girl,” he said.

With the baby still in his arms he leaned down and kissed her, whispered  _ Thank you _ against her lips before pulling away.

Reaching up, she wiped away the wetness from a tear that fell down his cheek. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he told her in a broken laugh, his voice tight with emotion. “She’s beautiful.”

He gave Harper to her and she fell in love instantly. Those calm steel blue eyes that would lighten or darken in the coming months, gazed up at her. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“I think those are your eyes,” Marcus murmured.

She shook her head. “No, they’re yours.”

Perching on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arm around her. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too.” Their lips met in another soft kiss. Dropping her gaze, she smiled. “Don’t we?”

* * *

Marcus hobbled down the hall with Octavia beside him. He would, thankfully, only be in his cast for a few more days, then he'd get a boot where he'd be able to at least walk some without the aid of crutches. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so damn useless because now that the baby was here he was going to want to help Abby as much as he could.

He’d walked down to meet his daughter since she had been kind enough to bring him a change of clothes. Harper was born just after nine and by the time Abby got into her recovery room, it’d been after eleven. They were all exhausted, and though Abby told him he could go back home and sleep, that wasn’t about to happen.

On the way up, she asked all kinds of questions. Questions he already answered in their text when he sent her pictures after Harper was born, but he didn't mind them. Her enthusiasm to meet and hear all about her baby sister was infectious and he was still riding on Cloud Nine himself.

When they came into the room, he was sure she'd wake the baby with all her energy, but she was quiet as could be when she went over beside Abby and asked, “Can I hold her?”

“Of course, you can. She's been waiting to meet you.”

“Awe, hi, baby sis.” Octavia's green eyes were large and full of awe. Like she knew she was getting a sister but her expression was like she hadn’t believe it until that very moment. “She’s so tiny.”

Marcus went over and removed the blanket from the chair beside Abby’s bed to give Octavia a place to sit with the baby.

A soft tap on the door had them all looking over to see Clarke and Bellamy had arrived.

Clarke went over to Abby, giving her a tight hug. “Hey, Mom.”

“Clarke, honey.” She held Clarke close for long moments and when they broke away Clarke went over beside Octavia. His son stepped up, a small bouquet of a variety of pink and white flowers in his hand filling Marcus with fatherly pride. Abby smiled and took them, giving Bell a hug in return. “Bellamy, thank you.”

Bellamy gazed over at the baby. “Wow, so this is her? She’s… small.”

Octavia looked up and shook her head, disappointed. “Astute, Bell.”

“How many babies have I been around?” he defended.

It seemed like Octavia was going to cut him a break because she shrugged, and said, “Okay, true.”

“Can I see her?” Clarke asked.

Octavia nodded, and got to her feet. They traded places then Octavia handed Harper to her. Marcus’ eyes met Abby’s and he knew by her smile she was just as happy by their kids’ reaction to the baby as he.

“Her eyes look blue?”

“All babies are born with some form of blue,” Abby explained. “They’ll darken or lighten more during the year.”

The baby started to stir in Clarke’s arms, a soft cry making her face scrunch. Clarke’s face fell. “Oh, I don’t think she wants me.”

Marcus stood, and held out his arms to take her. “I think it’s all this excitement with everyone in the room.” Once in his arms, he patted her back gently and swayed her slowly from side to side. She calmed instantly, whether from his voice or the motion he didn’t know, but it made him feel a bit smug regardless. “There we go.”

“She’s already daddy’s girl,” Abby mused.

He couldn’t help but smile at that before saying, “She just remembers my voice. After all, I’m the one who read to her.”

“Poor kid’s gonna grow up a Carl Sagan fan.”

He frowned at his son. “I read her other things.”

Bellamy grinned. “What, Neil Gaiman?”

“She loves Stardust,” he said, wanting to point out that Bellamy too had loved it when he read to him and Octavia when they were younger but decided not to push it. Instead, he dropped his gaze to his newborn and in a hush tone, spoke to her, “Don’t you? They weren’t there for all your little kicks. Hmm. But we’ll show them. We still have a few more chapters left, and Marcus is still being a bit of an idiot. He hasn't realized his one true love is actually, Abby.”

“Uh, Dad,” Bellamy said, “I wasn’t really great in English but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t their names.”

Octavia made a sound much like a disbelieving scoff. “Watch Netflix much? Their names were Tristan and Yvaine.”

Marcus shrugged. “Harper likes it with my names better.”

Bellamy’s brows rose. “She told you that, did she?”

“You look tired, Mom,” Clarke said, taking a seat beside Abby in bed.

The statement must have had a power of suggestion effect because Abby yawned. “Just a little. I’m fine.”

Clarke rubbed her arm. “We should go and let you rest.”

“No, don’t be silly,” Abby tried to suggest but was interrupted by her daughter.

“Mom, you just had a  _ baby _ .”

Abby narrowed her eyes at her. “I’m well aware, but you don’t need to leave so soon.”

Bellamy though, got to his feet. “I agree with Clarke. We should let you all get some rest.”

“I’m sure we’ll be home tomorrow,” Abby said, looking slightly disappointed that they were all leaving.

He might have said something but he agreed with them. She was tired and not sleeping much worrying about if Harper was awake and if they were taking care of her while the nurses had her away.

“We’ll keep the place all clean for you,” Octavia said, making Abby laugh as she hugged her goodbye.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks for coming and bringing Clarke, son,” he told Bellamy with a nod.

“No, problem, Dad. Bye, Abby.”

With goodbyes and final hugs exchanged, Marcus took a seat beside Abby in bed. Harper had fallen back asleep. A peaceful little thing nestled in the crook of his arm.

Looking up, he studied Abby’s face. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she was still as beautiful as ever. Still radiant. “Clarke was right, you know. You should get some more rest.”

“I should.” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head. “Get some sleep. I’ve got her while she’s content.”

In the quiet of the room, while they both slept, Marcus Kane let his thoughts drift back to all those months ago when she showed up at the bar. When his breath caught in his chest as she looked up at him and told him how much she missed him.

God knows he missed her too.

* * *

Abby blinked her eyes opened to the sound of her best friend’s voice. Glancing over at the door, a smile pulled her lips at the sight of her standing there with her daughter asleep in her arms. “You just had to go and have her without me.”

“Hey.”

Diana started towards her. Her gaze not on her but glued to her child. Raising a hand, Abby watched with a smile as Diana touched Harper’s nose with the tip of her index finger. “She’s a cutie, I must say. It was hell stealing her out with the nursery what with all of the nurses swooning over her.” Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, the blonde finally tore her gaze from the baby. “How you feeling, Momma?”

“Not bad.” Abby raised herself up further on the bed that was already tipped at an angle. “Her birth was easier than Clarke’s but then Clarke was almost eight pounds.”

“Clarke is her father’s child,” she said, then looked back at the baby with a fond smile. “This little one’s more you. The hair is all Marcus though. Where is the daddy anyway?”

“He went to get us some lunch.”

“He’s a good one.”

Abby’s chest warmed at the compliment and the fondness in her friend’s voice. “That he is.”

“Have you both set a date yet?”

“Sometime this spring.” Abby sighed, rubbing a hand across her much flatter stomach. “I want to try and get as much of my figure back as I can.”

Diana laughed lightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. It'll melt right off you.” Just then Harper stretched, starting to become fractious as she woke. Diana bounced her gently in her arms, and said, “Well, hello, baby girl. Are you going to wake up and see me? You didn’t wait for me to get here to be the first to say hello to you.”

The door to the room opened. Marcus, carrying a brown paper bag and two hot teas, came to a stop. “Oh, am I interrupting?”

Diana rose to her feet. “No, you’re fine. I just had to come see my girl. I think she wants her momma now though.”

He had a smile that was proud as any new father. “Would you like some lunch?”

“No, I need to get to work.” She gave her Harper and went over to him and kissed his cheek. “Congratulations, Marcus. She’s a beauty.”

“Thank you, Diana.”

And, as though an afterthought occurred to her, Diana turned back to her and said, “I’ll come back and check on you before you leave.”

Marcus put their food on the table in the room and came over to sit on the bed beside to her. He winced a bit raising his foot. She decided to let him off from being lectured on how much walking he’d been doing.

He had gone to get her food after all. And not just hospital food, but Pad Thai noodles and tea.

He dropped his head down on her shoulder. They both watched their daughter as she nursed. “Looks like we’re not the only ones hungry.”

Abby chuckled. She might have been little, but she had one big appetite. “She’s voracious.”

“She’s perfect,” he murmured.

She pulled her eyes from Harper, meeting the eyes of the man she loved. They smiled at one another then both leaned in and met in a soft kiss.

Looking down at their daughter, she thought about all they had gone through. How they had both loved and lost. How they had come together and found strength in one another to heal and acknowledge the love they shared all these years. How, through that healing, they were able to fall deeply in love when they never thought finding love again would be possible.

All thanks to the bundle in her arms. Because of Harper they would experience more life, more love, make new memories as a family. Whatever life had in store for them, they were ready for.

After all, some of the best beginnings were unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd baby girl Kane is here! I know you may be disappointed where this stops, but worry not, dear readers, for there is a nice long epilogue coming next week... Oh, and also a Halloween prompt that'll give you another little glimpse at this little Kane family I've come to love so so much. I hope you've enjoyed the journey so far. Thank you, everyone, for all the support and encouragement along the way.


	22. Chapter 22

Epilogue

_Three years later…_

 

“Mommy.”

Abby’s eyes scrunched closed.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?”

Abby blinked open her eyes to find her three-year-old daughter’s brown ones blinking back at her. Her voice hushed, not much more than a whisper, when she said, “Mommy, you said I can have pancakes and strawberries for breakfast.”

Abby yawned, her eyes drew up to gaze around their still dark room. It felt like she just went to bed. Her head fell back against her pillow. “Sweetheart, you can have breakfast in the _morning_.”

“But it is mornin’, Mommy!” Harper told her, her tone rising along with her enthusiasm. “The sun is comin’ up!” She crawled up onto the bed and over her in between her and Marcus. Getting to her feet, she moved the curtain aside and said, “See!”

The bed dipped as Marcus rolled to face her. He let out a sound that was half groan, half chuckle. “She’s awake.”

“And all yours,” she mumbled in return, still exhausted from her late night.

She heard him chuckle another chuckle, then felt his lips as he dropped a kiss to hers. “I was going to say, stay in bed. I’ve got her.” She opened her eyes, watched him get to his feet and hold out his arms for their daughter. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s let Mommy sleep for a little while more.”

Harper hopped on the bed towards him. “Daddy, can I have pancakes for my birthday?”

“It’s your birthday?” Marcus asked Harper, and Abby’s lips pulled up, listening to the feigned surprise in his tone. “Are you sure?”

Her daughter sighed, _so disappointed_ Abby thought with a smile. “Daddy, did you forget?”

“I guess I did. How old are you?”

“I’m three, Daddy,” she said then giggled when Marcus kissed her cheeks noisily counting to three with each drawn out one.

Abby turned on her back, watching them leave, Marcus carrying her in his arms asking her if she thought they should have a party since it was her birthday.

Abby closed her eyes listening to her daughter’s soft voice reply as it drifted downstairs.

Three whole years. Time had certainly flown by. It seemed like she had blinked her eyes and Harper was suddenly crawling, then walking, and talking. In the fall she would start preschool at an amazing Montessori school they found just outside of their neighborhood and close to the college. For her first year, Harper would only attend for a few hours in the afternoon, which Abby planned to have at least one class set during that time as she was just part-time faculty.

Just then the sound of soft cooing came from the monitor beside her bed. Raising up on her elbows, she smiled at the image of the reason for her reduced hours at the university. Her and Marcus’ son had woken with his sister’s morning enthusiasm. He was awake and kicking his feet making noises that he knew would bring she or Marcus to him.

_I’m coming, Elijah,_ she thought, another wide yawn leaving her. Making her way down the hall, she went over to the crib. The moment her son saw her face, he smiled the biggest, brightest smile up at her. His hands reached up and kicked his legs in his excitement.

“You’re up early,” she told him and took him in her arms. She kissed his cheek, then swept his thick dark hair away from his eyes. “Should we get changed and then go have breakfast with Daddy and big sis, hm?”

He made a sound, an excited little noise he made whenever anyone talked to him. At six-months-old, he had been all about finding his voice, especially when chatting with her.

Before going downstairs, she fed him and changed his diaper along with his sleeper. With a changed, dry, and full, happy baby, she went downstairs. She found Harper standing on a chair pulled against the counter helping Marcus stir, what Abby guessed, was pancake batter, while he drank a cup of coffee supervising their daughter.

Marcus smiled as they came into the room. “Seems everyone is an early riser today.”

She hummed something more like a grumble. _Understatement_.

Any other day, Harper would sleep until nine or ten if they let her. The earliest riser was their son, he seemed to have an internal alarm for seven. But if she or Marcus took him into their room and laid him between them, he would be content to lie there and amuse himself for another hour or so while they dozed some more.

“Do you want me to watch them so you can get a couple more hours of sleep?”

It was thoughtful of him, something she might have accepted on the nights Elijah was hard to put to bed, but Abby shook her head. “No, I might as well stay up and get things ready for the party.”

Marcus held out a strawberry when they were near and Eli leaned over, took a bite and made a face. Marcus laughed. “Was that sour? I’m sorry, son.” He leaned down, gave Elijah a kiss to his brow and then one to Abby that lingered. Pulling away, he set his coffee down and reached for their son. Holding him up in the air above him, he said, “There’s my big boy.” Eli grinned and held out his arms. Marcus laughed and lowered him against his chest then dropped another kiss to the top of his head.

“What time will everyone be here?” he asked.

She went over to the chair and watched while her daughter stirred, though the action was more patting the batter with the spoon than anything. Abby took the band from her hair and fixed the braid Marcus had neatly braided before she went to sleep. Harper’s brown hair now fell just past her shoulder blades. Abby had wanted to get it trimmed but the little girl protested she wanted it long like hers.

“Clarke and Bellamy said they’d be here after lunch, and Octavia and Lincoln around three. That’s _if_ they leave Salem early.” She smirked over at him. “You might want to call and make sure they’re up.”

Harper looked over at her. “O comin’ home?”

“She is,” she said, brushing back the small wisps of hair that escaped the braid from around her face. She’d had to give Harper a bath and redo her hair later before the party. “And Clarke and Bellamy.”

“And Madi and Charlie?” her daughter asked hopefully.

“No, sweetheart not today. They had to go on a trip with their parents to see their sister. But we’ll have a party for you and your friends next week and they can come to that party.”

“ _Two_ parties?”

“Two,” she said tapping Harper on the tip of her nose making her giggle before she danced a little dance in the chair. Her petite little frame wiggling making Abby laugh and hold out her hands in case she took a tumble.

When she was done, she took one look at the pancake batter and frowned. “Can I watch Darby?”

Abby nodded. It was only a matter of time before the young girl lost interest in the task. “Yes, baby, go watch. I’ll come get you when breakfast is ready.”

Harper hopped down and ran into the living room.

“What do you want me to do?” Marcus asked.

“Nothing,” she told him with a small smile. “Take Eli in the living room with Harper, watch some Winnie the Pooh and call Octavia.”

“All right.”

She lifted up on her toes, kissed her husband and after they’d gone, she turned to the mess on the counter and got started on breakfast for her birthday girl.   

* * *

Just after noon, Clarke and Lexa arrived, then Bellamy not long after. They had set up some games downstairs in the family room, Bellamy and Lexa played them with Harper while Clarke, Abby, and Marcus set up birthday decorations and got lunch started.

The living room was strung with purple and pink streamers and a big rainbow letter happy birthday banner across the fireplace mantel. The presents were stacked in the living room, there was still one present left to arrive. The small surprise was with Diana, who agreed to keep it for the night, and bring it by later in the afternoon when she came over for the party.

Balloons of every color littered the floor and ceiling, and Marcus made a mental note to pick up all the balloons off of the floor before the extra present arrived.

For the last half hour, he had been walking with Eli. With all the excitement going on in the house, his son had been fighting a nap, eager to crawl around, look at everything, and be held by everyone.  

He rocked Elijah in his arms, and in turn, his son raised his little hand patting Marcus’ face. His brown eyes, so much like his mother’s, stared back at him intently, refusing to close for too long. He took his small hand and kissed it, his heart filled with love for the extra, little blessing in their lives. His son babbled softly, his gaze intent on his, making him smile. While Abby insisted Eli was the spitting image of him, those eyes were all hers.

“Should I sing to you?” he asked his son, patting his back in a low tone that might soothe him. Elijah cooed softly in response, and he was about to open his mouth to sing, but from the window, a car pulling into the driveway caught his attention. “Oh, I see your big sister.”

He walked over to the front door just in time for Octavia and Lincoln to climb the last of the steps.

“Ugh, finally,” his daughter said, dropping her bags just inside the door. She smiled widely, but it wasn’t for him, but his boy in his arms. She held out her hands, and insisted, “Gimme my baby brother.”

Marcus passed his son to his daughter and met the eyes of her boyfriend. “Lincoln, how are you?”

“Good. Tired.” He blew out a breath between his lips. “It was a long drive.”

Marcus nodded his head empathetically. Lincoln had agreed a few weeks before to go with Octavia to check out the Berkeley campus in California. He had been thrilled to let her go as she had been on the fence about going to college at all, even with a soccer scholarship. “You guys should have flown.”

“I would have, but your daughter wanted to see all the sights.” He made a face at Marcus that made him bite back a chuckle.

His daughter was a force of nature that was for sure. It was all Lincoln, or anyone, could do to keep up with her. He opened his mouth to tell him just that but his son’s sudden cry took his attention.

Octavia frowned. “Oh, someone’s grumpy.”

Marcus took Eli back from her, and explained, “He’s been up all day and wants Abby, but she’s gone downstairs to do Harper’s hair before the party…” Just then he caught sight of his wife coming up the stairs. He turned so his son could see her and said, “Hey, look, there she is.”

Abby frowned, came right over and took Eli. “What's wrong with my boy?”

Eli rested his head against Abby’s chest. His little fists taking her shirt and gripping it tightly. “What’s been wrong with him for hours,” Marcus said, “he’s tired.”

Octavia went over to Abby, leaned down to give the baby a kiss. “Poor guy. All these people here not letting you sleep?”

“He's alright, he’s just like your father,” Abby assured while rocking the baby from side to side. His eyes already falling shut. “He wants to be cuddled before he can fall asleep.”

“And his have taken all of mine.” Going over to her, he added, “He’s stolen all my wife's attention.”

She shook her head at him. “I'll give you attention tonight,” she said lowering her voice and grabbing a hold of his shirt, pulling him close.

He chuckled at her playfulness and leaned down for a kiss.

“Guys, that attention got you another kid.”

Marcus turned at the sound of Bellamy’s voice, but it was Abby who assured, “Oh we don’t have to worry about that. We’re all done.” Looking up at him, she told him, “I’m going to go upstairs and try to get him down.”

“Okay.” He watched her go, and just when his wife disappeared from sight his daughter appeared.

She gasped and then the room filled with the sound of rushing feet on the stairs. “O!”

“Harper, slow down on the stairs, please,” he warned, his chest tightening as it always did when his little girl took the stairs at anything more than slow careful steps. She had already taken a tumble once. It was three steps, but to her and Marcus it might as well have been twenty. The fall had earned her a small bump on the forehead, and Marcus’ heart in his throat. He held her while she cried and cried, and even though Abby assured him she was alright, that she was probably more started from the fall than hurt, he still held her close and gave her three ice cream cones that night.

“Hey, munchkin,” Octavia said, picking up her sister who ran into her arms. “Someone missed me.”

“Did you bring me a present from Cali- Cali-fornia?”

Octavia nodded then lowered her brow to Harpers. “I did but ya gotta wait until later and open it with your other presents.”

* * *

Abby saw her daughter’s frown coming before it came. They had all finished singing happy birthday and it was time for her to blow out her candles. She leaned forward, and blew but oh, so gently, barely a breath. She tried again with the encouragement of her brother and sisters, but with the same results.

Marcus’ eyes met hers, and she nodded. He was going to have to help her.  

“Daddy,” Harper said, turning in his lap, her face falling into a heartbroken frown. “They won’t blow out.”

Abby saw her little chin begin to wobble, but Marcus took her in his arms and gave her a big hug before telling her, “It’s alright, I’ll help you, okay? Ready?” She nodded, a little look of determination settling across her brow. “Big breath on one, two, three!”

On three Marcus leaned them forward and they both blew. The candles went out and everyone cheered. Harper’s eyes widened and she smiled, proudly. “I did it, Daddy! See, Mommy! See!”

Marcus may have helped her, but Abby’s heart filled to bursting. “I see, big girl.”

While Harper helped Marcus remove the candles, and licked the frosting from the ends, she started slicing them all pieces. The cake was strawberry with white chocolate frosting. Marcus teased Abby about how her craving for strawberries during her pregnancy had passed on to their daughter.

After they were full of lunch and cake, they all packed into the living room and gathered on the floor. The final gift would be easier to give Harper in there than it would be in the kitchen.

Sitting on Marcus’ lap, they let her open all the gifts from others not present before their own. Abby’s parents sent her clothes and a teddy bear, while Marcus’ mother sent her candy and books about Scotland.

“Who’s this one from?” Marcus asked her, taking one from the top.

“Eli!” she read, then tore open the long, thin box. She held out the wooden instrument in her hands. “What is it?”

“It’s a flute,” Marcus told her, taking it from her. “You can play music, watch.”

Abby scrunched her nose at the tune, trying hard not to laugh but Harper didn’t care, she was fascinated.

“Ohhh, let me try.” She took it from him and blew and blew and blew. Sharpe little sounds came out but nothing remotely sounding like real notes but those would come with time.  

“Oh great, that’ll be fun to wake up to.” Octavia raised a brow in both her and her father's direction.

Marcus’ lips tugged up into a crooked smile. “She’ll lose interest in it after a day or two.” Reaching for another present, he asked, “What’s this one?”

The question took their toddler’s attention from the flute.

He showed her the small card on the side of the bright pink bag and she read, “From Clarke and Lexa!” Harper pulled the paper and streamers from the bag and _Ooo’ed_ when she finally pulled out the gift.

“It’s a Leapfrog,” Marcus told Harper when she handed it to him.

“It’s a learning tablet,” Lexa clarified.

“Me see, Daddy. Take it out, please?”

Marcus held it out to her and she took it. “Let’s let Mommy take it out while we open more. Who’s this one from?”

But Harper was already ahead of him it seemed because she held up the card closer to his face so he could see it which only made him lean back.“Bell, Daddy. See.”

He chuckled. “Yes, baby, I see.”

“Oooh, it’s the kitty from the movie!” Harper leaped to her feet and held out the plush cat. It was from her favorite movie the Aristocrats. “Mommy, look it!”

Abby took the toy. “She’s so pretty. Better go tell your brother thank you.”

She ran over and hugged Bell tight. “Thank you, Bell.”

“You’re welcome little squirt,” he said.

“Oh, this one’s a big one,” Marcus said sliding the box over in front of him. “From Octavia and Lincoln.”

Running over to him, she pulled off the wrapping paper, and when he opened it, she dug inside pulling out clothes and tossing them to the floor like they were packing paper. “Clothes?”

Her sister frowned, probably because Harper didn’t appreciate clothes the way Octavia did, but Lincoln peeked inside. “Keep digging there might be something else under them,” he said, in a little conspiratorial whisper.

More clothes joined the others, but then she paused and reaching down into the bottom pulled from it something that finally intrigued her. “Oooo, shoes with ribbons.”

“Do you know what kind of shoes they are?” Abby asked her daughter.

Her brow furrowed but then her mouth dropped open into a little o right before she exclaimed, “Ballet shoes!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Octavia said, “I think there might be something that goes with those in with the clothes.” Now curious, Harper began going through the clothes until she held out a pink ballet dress.

Marcus took the shoes and asked her, “Where do you suppose you can wear these?”

She looked between her and Marcus and when she didn’t answer right away, Abby asked, “Do you remember what kind of dance you wanted to learn?”

Harper’s eyes brightened. “Ballet!”

“That’s right,” Abby said taking the shoes from Marcus. They’d all gone to see the Nutcracker for Christmas and almost every day since, for two weeks Harper would ask if she could dance like the pretty ballerinas on stage. Their friends had a little girl in ballet who loved it, and so they looked into it. As it turned out, three-years-old was the perfect age to start Harper in ballet. “Daddy and I signed you up for a class, so you can learn to dance.”

“Yay!” She danced around the room, telling her brothers and sisters how she was going to learn to dance. They all responded with the same excited enthusiasm until she had been spent on the topic.

Looking around the room she gazed at them all and true to a toddler’s attention span, she asked, “No more presents?”

“There may be one more,” Marcus began, with a chuckle, “sit here with mommy and I’ll go check.”

The last gift had been dropped off downstairs about an hour ago by Diana who couldn’t stay but would be back later that night if her emergency delivery went quickly enough.

She and Marcus had debated on this particular gift for a while. She hadn’t been sure about it, but in the end, Marcus and Octavia had ultimately talked her into it. Convincing her how good it would be for Harper and Eli, though Abby had a sneaking suspicion Octavia wasn’t completely bias.

After a few minutes, Abby looked up and pointed at Marcus who came into the room with a box. “What’s Daddy got?”

Harper stood from her lap. “What’s that Daddy?”

“I don’t know but I think I hear something” He lifted the box to his ear. “Can you hear that?”

Sitting back down on the floor, Harper went over to him and put her ear to the box. Her eyes widened and she let out a soft gasp. “A kitty?”

“Let’s see.”

Harper jumped up and down in place as he lifted the lid. “It’s a kitty!”

“Be gentle,” Marcus said, helping her lift the small Siamese kitten from the box. “She’s a baby like Eli.”

“She’s for me?”

Her little girl’s gaze found her mother’s and Abby nodded. “For you, baby girl.”

Marcus showed her how to hold her. The tiny little kitten, thankfully, content to be held by her, smelling her, and licking her fingers making her little girl laugh.

“What are you going to name her?” Clarke asked.

“Umm,” Harper’s brow furrowed a moment before she said, “Blue.”

“Blue?” Lexa questioned with a tilt of her head. A hint of disappointment in her tone.

“Like her eyes, see.” Harper lifted the kitten.

Marcus met her gaze and smiled. “Blue works.”

Abby shrugged expecting a simple name. “As good of a name as any.”

* * *

 

The day wound to a close with a movie. They all gathered in the living room. Octavia and Lincoln on the floor lying together against pillows, Clarke and Lexa sharing the large papasan chair, and Bellamy stretching out along one couch.

He and Abby shared the smaller couch. He smiled down at his daughter asleep in her purple pajamas on his chest, his son cradled in his mother's arms.

“This is why we needed the big house,” she said in a hushed tone in an attempt not to be heard over the movie.

Marcus looked over at his wife and couldn’t fight back the crooked smile that pulled his lips up. “Aren’t you glad I bought it?” he whispered back.

She rolled her eyes, but her heart wasn’t in it. She pat his knee, and said, “The one good decision you get credit for.”

“I dunno, I think I made another.”

His eyes slipped from hers to Elijah making hers widen. “You're taking credit for our son?”

“I was the one who suggested we should have another.”

Had they not been watching a movie, the statement might have earned him a scoff, instead, it gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Unless your suggestion was what made my birth control fail, you don’t get to claim this one.”

Their eyes held, and they shared smiles. Their son may have been another surprise for them, but just like Harper, a good one.

“Do you want to put them down?” he asked.

She shook her head then dropped it to his shoulder. Her hand rose up to rub their daughter’s back. “I’m fine right here for a while.”

“Me too,” he whispered and dropped a kiss to her brow.

 

The end.

 

<https://flic.kr/p/2ch352C>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it. Thank you all so much for all your support, your comments, your kudos. They've all meant to world to me. I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Keep an eye out this week. I'll have a little Halloween story with this little family coming your way as well. If you have any prompt ideas for this AU you can leave me an idea here or send me one on my Twitter, @KateJaneway25.
> 
> And a quick thanks to my wonderful beta, Sarah. This story would be full of comma confetti without her.


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